The Best Christmas Ever
by Depudor
Summary: This is the sequel to Winter Wonderland. Jake and Hamilton spend Christmas together and compete to give each other the best present, but find their desires – and intentions -- to be at odds with each other.
1. Alone at Last

  
The low rumbling outside grew louder. Hamilton turned over in his sleep, pulling his pillow over his head.   
  
The engine kicked up, backfired a couple times.   
  
Hamilton opened one eye... What's that annoying noise?   
  
He looked at the window. The sky glowed through it like a TV screen, electric cornflower blue with pink just beginning to bleed into it. Early morning colors. Much too early to be awake. He closed his eyes, drifting off again...  
  
Then he heard the squeaking hiss of the school bus doors closing, and the grunting and straining of the engine as the bus finally lurched forward and pulled away.  
  
The bus...  
  
Jake!  
  
A terrified spasm in his stomach pulled Hamilton upright, and for a split second his heart stopped beating. This was the moment he'd been dreading, the moment the bus left for the airport and stole Jake away for three whole weeks of winter break.   
  
But then just as quickly, and with a rush of relief, he remembered that she wasn't going anywhere.  
  
*She's staying here.*  
  
Hamilton smiled sleepily and looked out the window to the ground below. The dark blue school bus wove its way down the little snow-covered road that ran from the Rawley quadrangle, past Hamilton's house and to the main road beyond. But Jake wasn't on it. His girlfriend and best friend was spending Christmas with him.  
  
*She's staying here.*  
  
Hamilton was so excited, he almost pulled back the covers, almost ignored that voice in his head that reminded him that vacations are for sleeping in, almost got out of bed at whatever insane hour it was.  
  
Almost.   
  
Instead he collapsed onto his pillow, but not before giving a tiny wave to the bus as it rumbled off. Those asshole Rawley guys were all going away, the guys who had harassed him for the past four months because they thought he was dating a guy. They were all leaving and taking their snide comments and prejudices with them, leaving Hamilton all alone with his beautiful girlfriend...  
  
"Hamilton, get up!"  
  
...And his parents.   
  
Hamilton opened his eyes as his mother's voice broke through his reverie. He blinked -- the room was much brighter now, sunlight streaming in, but he could've sworn he was awake just a second ago.   
  
"What time is it?" he groaned.  
  
"It's almost 9:00," Kate informed him as she walked into his room and started picking his dirty clothes up off the floor.  
  
"Why are you waking me up so early?"  
  
Kate almost laughed at the lack of any irony in his voice. "If Jake is staying here, we need to get this place cleaned up. I'm doing laundry right now. I want you to put clean sheets on the bed in the guest room."  
  
Guest room. That didn't sound right. Suddenly Hamilton was very much awake.  
  
"Guest room?" he repeated.  
  
"For Jake."  
  
"Oh... But, he can just sleep in my room, can't he?"  
  
Kate looked at him. "Sure, Munchie. I just figured you were getting a little old for sleepovers, but if that's what you-"  
  
"Well, I just figured that we'd..."  
  
"No, it's fine," Kate said quickly. "Just put clean sheets on the trundle bed. Come on, hop to it."  
  
Hamilton forced himself up as his mother disappeared into hallway. He sat on the edge of the bed and yawned, then knelt down and slid the trundle out from beneath the bed, lifting it up until the squeaky metal legs locked. The mattress was dusty. It hadn't been slept on for almost three years.  
And if all went well, Hamilton thought with a sly smile, it wouldn't be slept on anytime soon.   
  
* * * * *  
  
Cleaning was not Hamilton's specialty, and it was already afternoon by the time he left to collect Jake from her dorm and bring her home with him. The sky over the quad was pale blue except for a few swathes of thin winter clouds, and snow covered the ground, another generous dousing from the night before. Hamilton smiled at the ghostly emptiness of the brick and stone buildings around him, marveling at how strange it was that this was once the loneliest time of year for him.   
  
*She's staying here.*  
  
He'd been repeating it to himself like a mantra all morning. All those years that he'd wished for another kid to be there on Christmas morning to show off his toys to, to play the video games with, to play military commandos and run around the house and shoot each other. Sure, now he was a little bit older, but still... Jake appreciated a good video game. Quake, Doom, Myst, Tomb Raider, sex --  
  
Sex? How did that get in there? Hamilton shook his head. He couldn't stop thinking about it. Having Jake in his bedroom was going to be the best Christmas present of all.  
  
This would be the best Christmas ever.  
  
He skipped up the steps of the dorm, pulled open the heavy oak door, and escaped the cold. It was so quiet inside, so empty, like an abandoned mansion from some gothic Victorian novel.   
  
Damn! Why'd he have to go thinking about Victorian novels? Just when he'd managed to forget about the English lit final...  
  
But it was always this time of year, with the students gone, that he was most aware of the transitory nature of the world around him, juxtaposed with the permanence that was Rawley. The faces changed from year to year - perhaps that was why he so rarely befriended any of them - but the smell always remained the same. The air held the musty odor of muddy snow tracked across the hardwood floors, mingled with the scent of aged wood, cleaned all the time yet dust settled everywhere, on every oak railing and piece of wainscoting and trim. As a photographer, he had a million pictures of the place, filling books stacked on the shelves of his bedroom and overflowing into the linen closet and whatever other space his mother would grant him. But none of the photos could capture that smell, that dust that never went away but seeped in, took hold, and lingered to create the scent of history, of tradition, of self-importance. That, Hamilton thought, was Rawley.  
  
Now he laughed at that sense of tradition as he walked down the hall to the room of his cross-dressing girlfriend. Oh how old Captain Rawley would be turning in his grave if he knew... When he and his Puritan brethren first settled the town, and the school shortly thereafter, they didn't even believe that women should be educated. They thought it would only lead to witchcraft.   
  
Hamilton passed room after quiet room until he reached Jake's door. The irrational part of his mind hoped she might still be in bed, and he could just go in and slide under the covers next to her. But no such luck. When he let himself into her room, she was sitting in her usual perch at her computer.  
  
"Hey," he said.  
  
"Hey," she replied. Hamilton stepped up beside her and kissed her. Jake hit a button and made her screen disappear.  
  
"What was that?" he asked.  
  
"Maybe I don't want you to know."  
  
Hamilton raised an eyebrow. "O-K..." He flopped down on the bed. "Here's the deal -"  
  
"Deal? I thought everything was OK." She turned around in her chair to look at him.  
  
"Not quite. My dad expects me to go with him and my mom to this educators' conference in Houston the week after New Year's. So you can stay with us 'til then, but then I guess you'll have to go to Palm Springs or New York or whatever for a week."  
  
"That's fine. As long as I get to spend Christmas with you."   
  
"You do."   
  
At that, Jake smiled finally. Hamilton continued, "But I hope you don't mind sleeping in the guest room."  
  
Jake's smile disappeared. "What? Do I have to?"  
  
Hamilton liked playing this game. "Weren't you the one who said we weren't ready to sleep in the same room together?"  
  
"That was, like, four moths ago. We were a little less, um, *intimate* than we are now."  
  
"Well..." he said, a smile flickering the corners of his mouth. "I'll see what I can do." He sat up on the bed and leaned forward to kiss her.  
  
She kissed him quickly but then got up. "I'm all packed. We can go in just a minute."  
  
"What's your hurry?"  
  
"Well, for one, we were all supposed to be out of the dorms by noon today."  
  
"So if you've already broken the rule..." He grabbed her hand, and she sat down next to him on the bed. "I think we should take full advantage of it."  
  
They kissed again, deeper this time. Jake curled her hand around Hamilton's ear, which was still cold from being outside. She pulled him close to her, wanting to warm him, wanting to... There were so many things she wanted to do to him, but she knew they had almost two weeks together, and they should pace themselves.   
  
They fell back on the bed together. Jake drew up one of her legs and hooked it over his hip, and his hands groped down to her waist and then up under her shirt, knowing exactly where they were going. He had grown so adept at ripping off her corset, it was unfastened before Jake even realized what he was doing.  
  
"Wait!" she said, sitting up suddenly. The corset dropped around her waist.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Aren't your parents expecting us back at your place?"  
  
"My mom's not standing on the porch with a stopwatch, if that's what you mean."  
  
"I know, but... maybe we should continue this later."  
  
"Jake, how often do we get time together when no one's going to walk in on us, no one's going to give us that *look* when we walk out of your room..."  
  
"Well..."  
  
"Never. The answer to the question is *never*."  
  
"We can always sneak back in here tomorrow. I'm looking forward to exploring Rawley with you, seeing all of your secret places -"  
  
"Funny, that's exactly what I was thinking." He raised an eyebrow and smiled.  
  
"Down, boy." She ran her fingers through his hair. "You know what I mean. We talked about doing all the things you didn't get to do as a kid because you didn't have someone to play with. I'm curious about what those things are."   
  
Hamilton sighed and sat up. "Hey, if you're not in the mood, that's fine. It's just..."  
  
"Just what?"  
  
He smiled again. "I've never seen you not in the mood before."  
  
"That's not it. Really."   
  
Hamilton walked over to her luggage. "Jake, rule #1 of pretending to be a guy, don't pack two suitcases to travel five hundred yards."  
  
"I needed lots of room for all your presents. The bigger suitcase is full of them, so no peeking."   
  
"Uh-oh. Are you trying to out-do me?"  
  
"You said we're going to make this the best Christmas ever. I'm just trying to rise to the challenge."  
  
"I wasn't trying to make it a contest. I'm just psyched that we'll be together."  
  
"Yeah, but it doesn't hurt to have a few presents to open on Christmas morning, does it?"  
  
"Actually, at my house we open presents on Christmas Eve, after dinner. Christmas day is more low-key."  
  
"Christmas Eve, then." Jake picked up the big suitcase. "I'll be ready."  
  
* * * * *  
  
When they walked into Hamilton's house, it smelled to Jake exactly like Christmas - potpourri and pine needles.   
  
"Hey, guys!" Kate called from the living room. "Come on in."  
  
Jake followed Hamilton into the warm room where a fire was crackling in the fireplace and a huge tree stood in front of the bay windows. "Wow."  
  
Hamilton looked at her curiously. "Wow?"  
  
"That's the most beautiful tree I've ever seen."  
  
"What'd you expect? My mom's an artist. Our tree is always a work of art."  
  
And it was. Full and green and glowing with soft lights, decorated with silver and gold bows and some very avant-garde ornaments.  
  
"Hi, Mrs. Fleming," Jake greeted Kate, who was sitting on the couch and attempting to straighten all of the magazines on the coffee table. "Thanks for letting me stay here."  
  
"Jake, we're delighted to have you. I'm so sorry your mother got stuck in Paris."  
  
Jake looked at Hamilton. She wasn't sure what he'd told his mother. So she decided to change the subject. "That's a gorgeous tree."  
  
Kate stood up. "Thank you. The ornaments are all handmade, most of them by my students."   
  
Jake walked over to the tree and examined it. One of the ornaments was just a bunch of thumbtacks stuck into a styrofoam ball. Some of them were crayon on construction paper or little finger paintings, obviously made by a small child.  
  
"Did you make these?" she asked Hamilton.  
  
Hamilton groaned. "She made me do an ornament every year ever since I could hold a crayon."  
  
"Oh, since before that," Kate corrected him, showing him a paper circle with a blue baby footprint on it.  
  
"You can trace my artistic development by this tree," Hamilton said.  
  
"That's so s--" Jake stopped herself from saying 'sweet,' not wanting to sound girlie. "--cool."  
  
Hamilton pointed to an ornament that was just a solid black square. "From my existentialist period."  
  
"Hamilton was such a cute nihilist at ten," Kate cooed, kissing his temple. He ducked away and made a face at her. Kate glanced at Jake, then laughed. "Oh, yeah, I'm not supposed to kiss you in front of the guys."  
  
"That makes two of us," Jake mumbled under her breath. Hamilton caught it and shot her a look.  
  
"What?" Kate asked.  
  
"Nothing." Jake shoved her hands in her pockets, did her boy slouch, and walked around to the other side of the tree. "This really is amazing, Mrs. Fleming."  
  
"Thank you, Jake. I think you'd enjoy it even more if you took off your coat and sat down, maybe have some eggnog. Hamilton, your father should be home soon. He insists that he's officially on vacation as of 5:00."  
  
"Yeah, right," was Hamilton's reply.  
  
"You guys interested in Chinese for supper? I thought about going into town and getting take-out from that new place."  
  
"Sounds good to me," Jake said with a shrug. But she was losing her appetite as it was finally sinking in that she would be spending the next ten days under the watchful eye not only of Hamilton's mother but also of Dean Fleming.   
  
* * * * *  
  
Jake didn't talk much at dinner, despite Kate's constant questions. The Dean seemed to be more interested in grilling his son.  
  
"Hamilton, you don't happen to know who set off that explosion on top of the library last night, do you?"  
  
Hamilton and Jake exchanged a quick glance. He had to be talking about the prank they had set off, but that was just a computerized photo display, with one little Roman candle Hamilton sneaked in at the end.   
  
"'Explosion' is a harsh word, Dad. It doesn't convey the beauty and ingenuity of that particular work of art."  
  
"Work of art? Is that what you call theft and vandalism and the illegal use of fireworks?"  
  
"What theft and vandalism?"  
  
"Those were school computers."  
  
"Looked to me like they were just relocated, not stolen."  
  
"There was a snowstorm last night. If we hadn't gotten the computers down off the roof in time, they would've been destroyed. It took the custodian two hours to get them back down, and I'm sure that's time he would've rather spent home with his family."  
  
Hamilton stabbed at his egg roll. "Well, I'm sure whoever did it feels terribly guilty and just wishes he could be a better person."  
  
"Whoever did it has a knack for photography. And computers."  
  
"Well, Dad, if I think of someone who matches that description, I'll be sure to rat him out to you. 'Cuz that'll really make me popular with the guys."  
  
"Steven," Kate jumped in, "it's not a big deal. There's a prank every semester. It's a tradition."  
  
The Dean sighed. "I just hoped that with that Prescott kid gone, I'd finally get a break. We still haven't figured out how to turn the statue of Captain Rawley back to its original color."  
  
"Zinc oxide wears away over time." Jake looked up, realizing she hadn't meant to get involved in this conversation. "I mean, if that's what it was."  
  
Kate smiled. "I think yellow is a great color on the old Captain."   
  
Hamilton set his chopsticks down on his half-empty plate. "I'm full."  
  
"You barely ate," his mother argued.  
  
He shrugged. "I'm full. Jake, how about you? Ready to get your butt kicked at Mondo Soccer?"  
  
Jake's plate was also mostly full, but she nodded. "Yeah, I'm done."  
  
"I moved the Playstation up to my room. It's a smaller TV, but this way we won't bother anybody. Besides," -- he grinned at his mother as he stood up -- "the Playstation will soon be obsolete when I get my Playstation 2."   
  
Kate rolled her eyes. "Keep dreaming, cyber-boy."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Three hours later, and much to Hamilton's chagrin, Jake had wiped the floor with him, beating him at every video game he owned.  
  
"Look at that," Jake laughed as she ran Hamilton's car off the road and into a telephone pole. "The Munch got crunched."  
  
"That's not fair. You have more driving experience than I do."  
  
"Yeah, right. Because this has *so* much to do with real-life experience."  
  
Kate popped her head through the open door. "Guys, I'm going to bed. Jake, do you need anything?"  
  
With a lowered voice, Jake replied, "No, I'm fine, Mrs. Fleming. Thanks."  
  
"OK. Goodnight."  
  
"Goodnight."  
  
"Goodnight, Mom," Hamilton called. He waited until she was gone, then turned to look at Jake. "What do you want to do now?"  
  
"You don't want to play anymore?"  
  
"Not tonight. I think I'm off my game."  
  
"Well, why don't you pick up the shattered little pieces of your ego off the floor, and let's go have some eggnog and sit in front of the fire."  
  
Hamilton smiled. Not his first choice, but it would do.  
  
* * * * *  
  
They left the lights off in the living room to appreciate the beauty of the tree. Settled on the couch with Hamilton next to her, Jake took a sip of her eggnog and let the creamy sweetness of it slide coolly over her tongue. But it wasn't the drink she was savoring. It felt so good to be out of her stifling dorm room and in a real home, a warm home, a home that, despite all of Hamilton's complaints about his parents, Jake could feel was full of love. The moment was so perfect, and Jake couldn't help what always happened when things seemed too good to be true... the anxieties that inevitably flooded her mind...  
  
"Are you going to get in trouble?" she asked out of the blue, keeping her voice to a whisper.  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For the prank."  
  
"No way. My dad's got nothing on us."  
  
"What if someone saw us up on the roof when we setting up?"  
  
"Nobody saw us. It was the last day of term. Everyone was too excited and too busy trying to get out of here."  
  
"What about the teachers?"  
  
"Especially the teachers." Hamilton smiled and turned his gaze to her face. His blue eyes twinkled, reflecting the Christmas lights.  
  
"What?" Jake asked suspiciously, recognizing the glimmer that always meant he was planning something.  
  
"I want you to sleep in my bed tonight." He paused, but Jake's glare begged for clarification, so he continued, "With me."  
  
Jake almost choked on her eggnog. "Yeah, right!" she replied sarcastically. "Speaking of getting in trouble..."  
  
"Come on. We won't get caught."  
  
"I hate to say it, Ham, but your credibility on that point is kind of shot." She gave him a pointed look, and he knew she was recalling a certain incident in the showers.  
  
"I'll set the alarm to wake us up early."  
  
"What if your mom peeks in on us in the middle of the night?"  
  
"She won't."  
  
"So you're psychic now?"  
  
Hamilton's playful smile melted into a scowl. "Fine, if you don't want to."   
He turned away and glowered at the fire.  
  
Jake knit her brows. "OK, here's an idea. Let's see if your mom comes in tonight. If she doesn't, I'll sleep with you - I mean, I'll sleep in your bed - tomorrow night."  
  
Her Freudian slip brought a smile back to Hamilton's face for a moment. "But how will we know if she came in?"  
  
Jake grinned, and beckoned him to follow her upstairs. He got up and tiptoed after her.  
  
Once they were back in his room, she closed the door and looked around on his   
desk. She picked up an index card.  
  
"Perfect," she said, walking back to him.  
  
"For what?"  
  
Jake set the index card down on the carpet, leaning it against the closed door. "If she opens the door, it'll fall over."  
  
Hamilton smiled, nodding. "The Hardy Boys ride again."  
  



	2. It's All Fun and Games Until...

  
The next morning Hamilton awoke feeling like he was still in a dream.   
The house was warm - his mother had built another fire in the   
fireplace. The smell of baking cinnamon rolls wafted up from the   
kitchen, and best of all, Jake was lying in bed only five feet away   
from him. Just being able to open his eyes and see her sweet face was   
so... wow. There weren't words. The only thing that could be better was   
if she were in his bed right next to him.  
  
And with that thought, he sat upright and looked at the door. His eyes   
searched the floor for the index card.  
  
It was lying facedown, flat on the carpet.  
  
Hamilton's heart sank, and then he groaned and flopped back onto his   
pillows.  
  
The sound woke up Jake. "What?" she asked.  
  
"The index card."  
  
Jake turned to look and saw that it fell down. "Your mom came in."  
  
"I don't know. I just remembered that I got up to go to the bathroom in   
the middle of the night."  
  
"And you didn't put it back?"  
  
Hamilton shook his head and covered his eyes with his arm. Jake   
couldn't help but laugh at the agony on his face.  
  
"It's not funny," he moaned.  
  
There was a knock at the door, followed by his mother's voice.   
"Hamilton, are you guys up?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Kate opened the door and poked her head in. "I made cinnamon rolls.   
Come get 'em while they're hot. And, Jake, this just came for you." She   
walked in with a FedEx box. Jake sat up to take it, but had to keep her   
blanket pulled up over her chest. She wasn't wearing her corset.  
  
"Thanks." She was grateful that her morning voice was so gravelly she   
didn't have to lower it.  
  
"If you want, I'll wrap it and put it under the tree," Kate offered.  
  
"No, thanks, Mrs. Fleming."  
  
"OK. We'll make sure you have some presents to unwrap." Kate winked at   
Jake and left.   
  
Hamilton sat up and eyed the package with concern as Jake started   
opening it. "Is that from your mom?" he asked.  
  
"No. I'd never have her send stuff here. The last thing I need is to   
get packages for Jacqueline Pratt. Besides, my mom doesn't even know   
that I'm staying here."  
  
"She doesn't?"  
  
"Nope. I guess I should call her."  
  
"Isn't she going to wonder where you are?"  
  
"Only if she calls Palm Springs on Christmas... It once took my mom   
three months to realize that I was going to school in Texas rather than   
England. If she knows what continent I'm on, we're doing well."  
  
Hamilton was still eyeing the package. "So who's it from?"  
  
"It's from me. Something I ordered. For you."  
  
"A Christmas present?"  
  
"Sort of a pre-Christmas present." She grinned at him as she slid out a   
plastic-wrapped bundle. She tossed it to him, and it landed in his lap.   
Giving her a curious look, he unfolded the plastic to find two pairs of   
pajamas. They were Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers suits. One blue, one   
yellow. His jaw dropped.  
  
"Oh, my God," Hamilton exclaimed, lifting them up. It was only two   
nights earlier, sitting on the dormitory roof while setting off their   
prank, that Hamilton had told her the story of the pajamas he'd had as   
a kid. His mother had given him two pairs one Christmas, so that he and   
a friend could wear them. But he had friends sleep over so rarely he'd   
outgrown them before he'd had the chance.  
  
"You might think it's totally dorky," Jake said, unsure of his   
reaction. "But I'll totally wear them if you want."  
  
"Will they fit us?"  
  
"Yeah. They're adult sizes. The blue's large, for you. The other one's   
a small."  
  
"Where the hell did you find adult-sized superhero pajamas?"  
  
"It's called the Internet, Ham. You can find anything you want."  
  
"Is that what you were doing on your computer when I walked in   
yesterday?"  
  
"Maybe." She smiled coyly.  
  
"Blue... that's the same color my mom got me. I didn't tell you that."  
  
"What else would she give you? Hamilton, anyone who gives you clothing   
that isn't blue is committing a crime."  
  
Hamilton laid the pajamas out in front of him. For a moment he didn't   
speak, and Jake got nervous again.  
  
"So... what do you think?" she asked finally.  
  
"I think... you just scored some serious points in the 'best Christmas   
ever' contest." He grinned at her, and in response a smile spread over   
her face like sun breaking though the clouds. "We're going to have a   
lot of fun in these," he continued. "But we can't wear them in front of   
the parentals, because that would look--"  
  
"Yeah, of course."  
  
"But I know somewhere we can wear them. After breakfast, we're going   
out."  
  
* * * * *  
  
They managed to escape the Dean's presence at breakfast. Kate informed   
them that he had gone into town to do his Christmas shopping. Hamilton   
and Jake scarfed down cinnamon rolls, turkey sausages, orange juice,   
and coffee. Hamilton made a face when Jake put eggnog in her coffee.  
  
"It's good. You should try it," Jake insisted.  
  
"No thanks. Looks gross."  
  
"Wuss."  
  
After they ate, Hamilton showed Jake the game closet. It was full of   
sporting equipment, board games, video games, and all kinds of toys.  
  
"Plenty to keep us busy," he said.  
  
Jake stepped in and looked around. "I'm just warning you, Fleming. I'll   
kick your ass at Parcheesi."  
  
"I don't know about that. You couldn't possibly be better than James."  
  
"Who's James?"  
  
"James was one of my very best imaginary friends."  
  
"He didn't happen to live in a giant peach, did he?"  
  
Hamilton gave her a sardonic smile and pulled down two odd-shaped   
orange plastic guns from a shelf. "Here they are."  
  
"What do they do?"  
  
"Shoot ping-pong balls."  
  
"OK, that could be fun." She didn't sound convinced.  
  
Hamilton raised an eyebrow. "Wait, I know what you'll like."   
  
* * * * *  
  
"Are you sure breaking into your father's office is a good idea?" Jake   
asked as Hamilton found the right key and unlocked the door. They were   
in their coats now, having trekked across the snowy quad to the   
administrative building.  
  
"We're not breaking in. We've got a key. Besides, you heard my mom say   
he's in town. Buying presents takes him forever. He agonizes over it.   
You know, because everything has to be perfect."  
  
"Funny. That sounds like someone else I know."  
  
Hamilton ignored that comment and led her into the office and over to a   
closet, which required another key to open. He also happened to have   
this one on his key chain.  
  
"Why is the closet locked?" Jake asked.  
  
"Because it holds contraband." He pulled out two large water guns.   
  
"Those look familiar."  
  
"I had my dad confiscate them from Will and Scout," Hamilton explained,   
with a triumphant grin.  
  
"That's so evil! You know, you're a narc now."  
  
"But for a good cause, right?"  
  
Jake shook her head but smiled. Will and Scout deserved it, having   
attacked her and Hamilton with those very guns in the middle of an   
extremely hot make-out session.  
  
They went to the nearest dormitory restroom to change into their new   
clothes and admire themselves in the long mirrors. In the smaller   
version of the matching pajamas, Jake could easily have been Hamilton's   
little brother, or sister. The little brother or sister he always   
wanted but never got, Jake remembered him telling her.  
  
They filled their water guns in the bathroom sinks, each promising   
serious ass-kickings to the other. Hamilton gave Jake a thirty-second   
head start, and then it was all-out war.   
  
She took off running down the hallway and managed to skip up the   
staircase without him seeing where she went. She peered over the   
railing and waited until she could see his head right below her, then   
she pulled the trigger and let loose a cold stream. Direct hit.  
  
"Aaaahh!" Hamilton yelled. She was soaking him, and he couldn't fight   
back. He was in an open space, fully exposed, whereas she could duck   
back behind the railing when he tried to return fire. He gave up and   
tore after her up the staircase, taking the steps two at a time.   
  
Jake screamed and ran off down the hallway, trying to find another good   
defensive position. She knew he was right behind her. She rounded a   
corner and stopped, catching her breath. She tried the door next to   
her, but it was locked. She tried the next door, and it was locked as   
well. She knew she couldn't outrun him. He was such a stronger runner   
than she was that when they did go running together, deep into the   
woods with no one else around, he sometimes ended up carrying her on   
his back for part of the jog; Hamilton considered this a form of cross-  
training.  
  
Her heart pounding with the thrill of the chase, Jake knew she had to   
stand her ground. The best defense was a good offense, and she would be   
ready for him. She could hear him coming, slowly now, stealthily, as if   
there were a possibility that she didn't already know where he was. She   
knew he was trying to decide whether she went to the left or the right.  
  
"Aah!" With a yell, he leapt around the corner and landed right in   
front of her, having chosen correctly. But scare tactics got him   
nowhere -- she was ready, her gun poised at her shoulder, and she   
unloaded right into his face.  
  
"Hah!" she cried in reply as he yelped and jumped back. But this time   
he was able to return fire, and they stood spraying each other at close   
range and screaming until Jake realized she was running low on ammo and   
would have to retreat and reload. As she turned to run --  
  
SWOOSH... SPLAT!  
  
The wet floor slipped from beneath her feet, and she landed on her   
hands and stomach in a puddle of water.   
  
Hamilton was on her in a second. He flipped her onto her back and   
straddled her, then easily wrestled her gun away and pinned her to the   
ground.   
  
"Noooo!" she screamed, half-laughing, half-gasping.  
  
Hamilton's sopping wet hair hung down in his eyes and dripped onto   
Jake's face. She squirmed underneath him, trying to buck him off. He   
threw aside his own weapon to hold down each of her hands with his own.   
  
"How do you like them apples, Pratt?" Hamilton teased, his bright eyes   
gloating down at her as he paused to catch his breath. "You may beat me   
at video games, but this is the real world, and I'm stronger than you   
are."   
  
Jake stopped struggling. They were both panting, gazing at each other,   
caught up in the battle.  
  
"So, Hamilton," Jake shot back at him, "did you get this turned on with   
your imaginary friends?"  
  
Hamilton didn't even realize how aroused he was until she voiced it,   
but he was suddenly aware of how hard he was pressing into her stomach,   
how tightly his legs squeezed her hips. His heart was pounding, and it   
felt like all the blood coursing through his veins wanted to course   
right into her. He was hot and wet, as was she. He looked at her mouth,   
which was open, panting, and inviting, and he knew that at the very   
least, he had to kiss her.   
  
And he would have had the chance, had he not been interrupted by a   
man's voice...  
  
"Mr. Fleming, we do not allow the mounting of fellow Rawley students in   
the hallway."  



	3. Don't You Want Me, Baby

For a moment, Jake and Hamilton both froze, their eyes locked on each other.   
Then Hamilton looked up to see who was standing over them in the hallway.  
  
"Finn!" Hamilton cried, relief filling his voice. He rose up onto his knees,   
allowing Jake to flip over onto her stomach so that she could look up and see   
for herself. She scrambled onto her knees, but accidentally pushed herself right   
up into Hamilton's crotch.  
  
"Ow!" he cried, bending over in pain.   
  
"Oh, sorry!" Jake crawled forward away from Hamilton and sat back on her ankles   
in front of him.  
  
Finn just shook his head at this. They were quite a site -- Jake and Hamilton,   
dripping wet, dressed in ridiculous superhero outfits, crouched together in a   
puddle in the otherwise dry corridor.  
  
"Why do I always find you two in the most compromising of situations?" he   
wondered aloud.  
  
Hamilton had recovered from his encounter with Jake's tailbone enough to ask,   
"Finn, what are you doing here?"  
  
"I could ask you the same thing, Hamilton. Dormitories are off-limits during   
winter break."  
  
"We're... just visiting. But you're supposed to be off skiing."  
  
"There's a blizzard headed for Moosehead, so I'm stuck here for a couple more   
days. Jake, I thought you were going to Paris."  
  
"My mom canceled on me, so I'm staying with the Flemings."  
  
"Really? How convenient... Well, I'm sure it's no big deal for the Flemings to   
have another young male in the house, right?" This caused both Jake and Hamilton   
to look down guiltily. "But, Jake, are you sure it's such a good idea to be   
carrying on this charade right under the Dean's nose?"  
  
"It's a better idea than being alone for Christmas," Hamilton interjected.  
  
Finn sighed. "I suppose that's true."  
  
Jake looked up at him. "Finn, the day after tomorrow is Christmas Eve. You're   
not going to be stuck here for Christmas, are you?"  
  
"That remains to be seen."   
  
"You should come to our house," Hamilton said immediately. Jake looked at him,   
and he shrugged slightly.  
  
"Thanks, Hamilton, but it sounds like your house is already pretty full."  
  
"No, I insist. You at least have to come for dinner on Christmas Eve. It's our   
big feast. And despite what you may have heard about my mother's cooking, she   
makes a great goose."  
  
Finn started to object again, but then pondered this for a moment and said, "I   
would have to get an invitation from your parents before I'd consider it. But it   
does sound like it might be an interesting evening." He turned to go. "By the   
way, you two are welcome to stop by my room if you need to borrow a hairdryer   
before you go back out into the snow."  
  
He walked back down the hallway and disappeared around the corner.  
  
Jake whispered, "Hamilton, are you sure it's such a good idea, inviting Finn   
over?"  
  
"Come on, Jake. We can't let him be alone for Christmas. You wouldn't be here if   
he weren't protecting you, and his job could be on the line for that. We both   
owe him bigtime."  
  
"Yeah, you're right." But she felt guilty enough masquerading in front of the   
Dean and his wife without Finn their to watch.  
  
Hamilton turned so that he was face-to-face with Jake again, the hunger creeping   
back into his eyes. "Do you think we could get back to where we were before we   
were interrupted?"  
  
"I don't know, Hamilton." She stood up, resisting Hamilton's attempts to keep   
her next to him. "It might be kind of hard to re-create that -- Oh, my God!! Is   
that your dad?!"  
  
Hamilton whirled around in the direction she was looking. Jake immediately made   
a dive behind him and scooped up both water guns. Before Hamilton even realized   
what was happening, she was unloading both barrels all over him.  
  
"Hey, that's not fair!" he yelled, crouching down and shielding his face from   
the deluge.  
  
"How do you like them apples, Fleming? You may have the brawn, but I've got the   
brains!" She backed away from him slowly, and then, at a safe distance, she   
turned and ran off down the hallway, holding her guns up, laughing maniacally,   
and squirting water into the air as she went.  
  
Hamilton smiled as he watched her disappear around the corner, ready for a good   
game of hide-n-seek. She was every imaginary friend he ever had, but so much   
better, because she was flesh and blood, her smile was real, and her laugh   
filled the hallways and resonated in the oak paneling of that dusty old Rawley   
building.  
  
* * * * *  
  
An hour later, after chasing each other all over the dormitory, they ended up in   
Finn's apartment suite, drying off in front of his fireplace. They'd skipped   
lunch and were starving, so Finn tried to find something for them to eat.   
  
"You don't entertain much, do you?" Hamilton asked, as Finn set the plate of   
Cheez Whiz and Ritz crackers down on the coffee table in front of the fire.  
  
"Sorry. This is a bachelor pad."  
  
"Hey, he has IBC Root Beer," Jake said, twisting the cap off a bottle. "You   
can't beat that."  
  
Hamilton looked around the room and spied a stack of bluebooks on Finn's desk.   
"Did you already grade the exams?" he inquired, squirting cheez onto a cracker.  
  
"I'm just about finished."  
  
"How'd we do?"  
  
Finn looked pointedly at Hamilton and replied, "You'd have done better had you   
read all the books."  
  
Hamilton felt his cheeks flush. He hoped that in the ruddy glow of the fire it   
wouldn't be noticeable.   
  
"But," Finn continued, "you got extra points for the creativity of your essay   
topics. I never would've interpreted the Knight's Tale to reveal Chaucer's   
opposition to the Crusades." He nodded approvingly. "However, you will both find   
out your grades after break, when everyone else does."  
  
"So what about Christmas Eve dinner? You coming?"  
  
"I don't know." Finn hesitated a moment, staring into the fire. "I'll have to   
talk to your mother."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Jake and Hamilton returned home through the back door and into the kitchen. Kate   
was already getting dinner ready, boiling water and trying to open a jar of   
spaghetti sauce.   
  
"There you two are! I was wondering where you'd disappeared to."  
  
Hamilton took the jar from her and twisted the lid off as he said, "We had to   
drop by the dorms - Jake forgot something - and guess who we ran into?" He   
handed her back the open jar.  
  
"Whom?" she asked, correcting him.  
  
"Finn. He's stuck here, so I thought we should invite him to Christmas Eve   
dinner."  
  
CRASH!  
  
The jar dropped out of Kate's hand and smashed to the floor, splattering tomato   
sauce everywhere. Jake and Hamilton jumped back, then rushed forward to help her   
clean it up.  
  
"No, I'll get it," Kate said, waving them away. "I don't want you tracking   
broken glass all over." She grabbed a roll of paper towels.  
  
"So, Mom, is that OK?" Hamilton asked.  
  
"You want me to invite Finn to have Christmas dinner with us?"  
  
"Well, technically, I already invited him. I just need you to formalize it."  
  
"You just went ahead and invited him without asking me?"  
  
"Yeah, what's the big deal?"  
  
"Well, you know, it's a family thing..."  
  
"But Jake's here."  
  
Kate smiled warmly at Jake as she replied, "Jake's your best friend. He's like   
family."  
  
"But we always have guests for Christmas dinner. I thought you and Finn were   
friends."  
  
"We are, but... I have to plan these things. A goose only feeds so many people.   
It's not like a turkey."  
  
"So we'll get another goose. Is there like a goose shortage or something?"  
  
"No, I...it's just..."  
  
"What?" This came from Dean Fleming, who walked into the kitchen and rested a   
paternal hand on Jake's shoulder as he surveyed the scene. "I invited Finn for   
Christmas Eve dinner," Hamilton said.  
  
"Finn? Is he knocking around the dorms all Christmas again?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Well, that'll be great! The more, the merrier. And I can find out from him just   
how you're been doing in English." The Dean looked down at the broken jar oozing   
red sauce all over the bright linoleum, and he smiled. "I hope that means we   
don't have to have spaghetti again. Jake, how do you feel about ordering pizza?"  
  
"I live for pizza, Sir."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Kate decided that dinner that evening would be informal, so Jake and Hamilton   
were allowed to eat their pizza in the living room in front of the TV. Hamilton   
looked through the stack of videos his mother had brought home for them and   
chose 'Galaxy Quest.' After the movie, he and Jake raided the game closet and   
got stuck in a marathon game of Monopoly that finally ended at two in the   
morning with them mutually disavowing the very notion of personal property and   
pledging to join a commune.   
  
Upstairs to bed at last, Jake once again leaned the index card against the door.  
"She's not going to come in," Hamilton insisted.   
  
"I want to be sure. But this time, if you get up to go to the bathroom, put the   
card back."  
  
"So this means we're doing Ozzie and Harriet again tonight?" he asked,   
glowering.  
  
Jake sighed and sat down next to him on his bed. He looked away, and she ran her   
fingers through his hair. "Hey..." she whispered. When he finally raised his   
eyes to hers, she continued, "We can stay in your bed for a little while."  
  
A slow-creeping smile diffused Hamilton's sullen features. He grabbed her hand   
and pulled it down around his waist, pulling her toward him in the process.   
Their eyes closed and their lips met, and Hamilton felt like it'd been forever   
since the last time he'd kissed her. The wetness of her mouth was thirst   
quenching for him. He pressed up against her hungrily, pulling her with him as   
he lay back on the bed. Then he leaned forward so that he was on top of her.  
Although they'd never had proper intercourse, they had for months been   
practicing their own version of sex - fully clothed, rubbing over each other.   
Sometimes, when they were sure no one was going to come knocking on the door,   
they'd lose some of the clothing. On a couple special occasions they'd lost all   
the clothing. But for Hamilton, it was three months' worth of foreplay, and he   
was ready for the real thing.  
  
So it was no surprise to either of them when his fingers crept over her stomach   
and under the waistband of her panties. What was a surprise was how quickly she   
grabbed his hand and pulled it out.  
  
"What's the matter?" Hamilton whispered.  
  
"I just... I thought..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I thought we were reliving your childhood."  
  
Hamilton smiled lustily. "There are some very un-childlike things that I want to   
do to you right now."  
  
"I thought you wanted me here because you never had a brother or sister around   
for Christmas."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Someone to play with. You know, on Christmas morning..."  
  
"We have plenty of time to kill before Christmas morning. Can I help it if I   
can't keep my hands off of you? I've got a girl in my house, Jake. In my   
bedroom. A girl my parents don't even know about, because she's hiding in plain   
sight. It's like a dream. It *is* a dream. I mean, but, it's *not* a dream. It's   
real. Do you get what I mean?"  
  
"Um, I got the girl part. And trust me, it's not that I don't want to..."  
  
"So what's the problem?"  
  
"We have ten days together. We should pace ourselves."  
  
Hamilton buried his face in her neck and exhaled deeply. "Jake, you don't know   
how hard it's getting to stop."  
  
"No, Hamilton, I *do* know. That's why we shouldn't get started. You know, we're   
celebrating a holiday in which a young woman finds herself in an unplanned   
pregnancy."  
  
"But then she gets visited by an angel and it all turns out for the best." He   
lifted his head up to grin at her, but she wasn't smiling, and his own smile   
faded away. "So you're saying it would be different if I had a condom?"  
  
"Do you have a condom?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Yeah, it'd be different."  
  
Hamilton sighed again and rolled over onto his back. Jake laid a hand on his   
chest, but he pushed it away. She looked at him, but he wouldn't meet her eyes.  
  
"Hamilton, you're not mad, are you?"  
  
He didn't answer. What he did do was stand up, scoop Jake up in his arms, and   
plop her down on the trundle bed. Then he shut off the lamp and climbed into his   
own bed, turning his back to her.  
  
"Goodnight, Jake," he said curtly.  
  
Jake didn't respond. She lay there in the dark, biting her lip. She couldn't --   
she wouldn't -- tell him that she wanted to keep going as much as he did.  
  



	4. Out in the Snow

  
When Hamilton awoke late the next morning, Jake wasn't in the room. He got up   
and went to the door, but as he put his hand on the knob, he looked down.  
  
The index card was lying facedown on the carpet. Hamilton couldn't know if that   
was from his mother peeking in during the night, or just from Jake leaving. But   
as he looked at it lying there, he decided he didn't care. Disgusted, he bent   
and picked it up, ripped it in half, and tossed it in the trash basket.   
  
His bathroom door was closed when he walked by, so he knew where Jake was. He   
tromped down the stairs and passed his mother in the living room. She called to   
him, but he grumbled a reply and continued on to the kitchen. She followed him.  
  
"I got donuts," Kate said. Hamilton walked over to the box on the table and   
picked one out. "'Thanks, Mom,'" she added in response to his silence.  
  
"Thanks, Mom," he said.  
  
She poured him some juice, then began, "I talked to Finn."  
  
"You invited him for dinner?"  
  
"Yes, but he probably won't be able to make it." She paused, then took a deep   
breath before she continued. "He told me that you did OK on the English Lit   
final."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"You know 'OK' won't be good enough for your father."  
  
"Of course not. We can't have the Dean's son failing to shine. It might make him   
look bad."  
  
"It's not that, Hamilton. He wants you to learn. If he didn't have a passion for   
education, we wouldn't be here. But this isn't about your father. What's going   
on with you, Hamilton? It's not like you to slack off. You've always been   
conscientious about your studies. Summer session was supposed to help you with   
the transition to normal classes, although I guess English out on the lake isn't   
exactly a normal class."  
  
"I don't have a problem with my classes."  
  
"Then what is it? Why can't you finish your reading assignments?"  
  
"God, you act like I'm the only kid on the planet who's ever not gotten his   
homework done."  
  
Before Kate could say anything else, Jake walked into the kitchen.   
  
"Hey," she said as she spied Hamilton.  
  
"Good morning, Jake," Kate greeted. "Would you like a donut?"  
  
"No, thanks. Maybe just some juice." She wasn't feeling particularly hungry,   
which was a good thing. She'd weighed herself on the bathroom scale and didn't   
like what she saw. She had enough trouble trying to keep a boy's figure without   
gaining weight over the holidays.  
  
Kate poured juice for Jake and then walked over to add some more to Hamilton's   
glass. She laid a hand on his shoulder and told him, in a less accusing tone, "I   
guess it's hard for me not knowing how you're doing, having to hear about it   
from other teachers. Maybe I'm a little jealous of them. I liked it when I had   
you all to myself."  
  
Hamilton looked up to see the soft smile his mother gave him. But out of the   
corner of his eye, he caught the pained expression on Jake's face. Something had   
hurt her.  
  
"I'll be right back," Jake gulped, and walked quickly out of the room.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Jake ran into Hamilton's bedroom and closed the door. She was desperate to hold   
back the tears. For five months she'd managed to avoid breaking down in front of   
him, and she didn't want to start now. She realized he might come up after her,   
so she figured she'd be better off in the bathroom, but before she could get to   
the door, Hamilton opened it and walked in.  
  
"Jake, what's the matter?"  
  
She was at a loss for words. It wasn't what he thought, and she figured he   
wouldn't get it. There was no way she could make him understand, no way that   
someone with a mother who was so loving and attentive could possibly fathom what   
it was to be the daughter of Monica Pratt. Jake sat down on the bed, her back to   
the door.  
  
"Listen," Hamilton said, wringing his hands, "I'm sorry I was such an asshole   
last night."  
  
"It's not that, Hamilton."  
  
"Did I do something else?"  
  
"It's not you. Not directly. You can't help being loved."  
  
"Ahhh... Is this about your mom?"  
  
Jake was quiet. She closed her eyes and reminded herself that this wasn't a big   
surprise. Her excitement for Christmas break had dwindled over the years as   
she'd had less and less time with her mother, just a couple days usually. But at   
least Monica had always been there. It was inevitable, Jake supposed, that   
eventually she would skip it altogether. And maybe Jake could have handled it   
had it not come during such a confusing and difficult year, when she was living   
a lie in order to hold on to the one thing that wouldn't let go of her.  
  
Without another word, Hamilton sat down next to her on the bed and cautiously   
reached out an arm around her shoulders. She still looked down at her lap. They   
sat like that for a moment, then Hamilton threw caution to the wind and pulled   
her to him in a tight hug. There were times when he knew that nothing he could   
say would comfort her, but holding her tight almost always worked. "I'm sorry,"   
he whispered. "I forgot how hard this must be for you."  
  
She hugged him back, barely holding back the tears that stung her eyes. But she   
pushed away from him after a moment, knowing that they might not be alone for   
long.  
  
He looked at her face and ran his thumb under her watery eyes. "Talk to me," he   
insisted.  
  
"I guess it's... I've gotten used to not seeing my mom very often. But Christmas   
was always the one time of year when I knew I she would be there. She could   
ignore me for the rest of the year, but the one time I could count on her was   
Christmas."  
  
"It wasn't her choice. You know she wanted to see you."  
  
"Yeah, right. That's why she blew me off so easily. If she loved me--"  
  
"Of course she loves you. I know she does."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"Because how could anyone know you and not love you?"  
  
"But that's the whole point. She doesn't know me."  
  
Hamilton didn't have a response to that. His relationship with Jake, her coming   
to Rawley, was all because she was trying to drive home that very point to her   
mother.  
  
Hamilton realized he would have to resort to distraction tactics. "You know, it   
snowed again last night," he said after a moment. "There're huge drifts all   
over."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"How about we eat some breakfast and then go build a snowman?"  
  
"That sounds doable. But are you going to start a snowball fight so you have   
another excuse to jump me?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Oh... That's too bad."  
  
Hamilton raised an eyebrow and stared at her. "You are a most confusing girl,   
Jake."  
  
* * * * *  
  
They spent the better part of the afternoon building the snowman. He was nice   
and plump, thanks to the thick and sticky snow. Jake decided that, in Finn's   
honor, they would name him Shakespeare. Kate gave them a carrot for his nose,   
buttons for his eyes, and red candies to make him a big smile. Hamilton brought   
out a scarf and a large ski cap for him.  
  
"You can't put a ratty knit cap on him," Jake objected. "A snowman is supposed   
to wear a top hat, like Frosty."  
  
Hamilton shrugged. "He can be a grunge snowman."  
  
"Grunge is so over."   
  
"Hey, I'm not the one who wears the plaid flannel shirts." He looked over at her   
and smirked, then turned back to his snowman.  
  
Jake scooped up some snow and began shaping it in her hands. Before she even   
realized it, she had a perfect snowball. She looked at Hamilton, who was   
carefully fitting Shakespeare with twig arms. She had an easy shot. Too easy.   
But she couldn't resist.  
  
She hurled the snowball at Hamilton and caught him in the back of the head.   
  
"Hey!" he yelped. Taken completely by surprise, he turned to her and smiled   
knowingly. "Jake, are you starting a snowball fight?"  
  
Her only answer was a big grin. She immediately bent down to scoop up more snow,   
and Hamilton followed suit. An icy melee ensued. Poor Shakespeare was caught in   
the middle and soon lost three teeth and his right eye.  
  
Jake found it wasn't easy wading through the thick snow, especially while being   
pelted with snowballs by Hamilton. As she tried to run and bend down to pick up   
more snow at the same time, she eventually tripped up and pitched forward into a   
snowdrift. She turned over to find Hamilton standing right over her.  
  
"Is this the part where you jump me?" she asked breathlessly.  
  
"No," he replied. He flopped down on his back next to her. "This is the part   
where we make snow angels." He started waving his arms up and down. Jake laughed   
and started to do the same.   
  
Hamilton finished his, then sat up and leaned over her, gazing down at her   
bright, dark eyes and ruddy cheeks ripened by the cold.   
  
Jake noted with surprise that he looked like he might kiss her. "Hamilton, we're   
in your front yard. Your parents could be looking out the window."  
  
"OK, so I won't kiss you." But he continued to leer, and after a moment his   
lusty smile once again curled his lips. "But I'm very much wanting to kiss you.   
I'm thinking about kissing you."   
  
He hovered above her, his lips puffy red from the cold and incredibly kissable.  
  
"Yeah?" Jake knew what he was doing, and it was working. She was very aroused.  
  
"I'm thinking about sliding my tongue behind your upper lip, along your   
teeth..."  
  
"Oh my God," Jake gasped. "This is like having phone sex from two feet away."  
  
"I'm thinking about putting my lips on that little spot on your neck, you know   
the one I'm talking about. Then opening my lips and letting my tongue dance its   
way into that spot, then nibbling with my teeth ever so softly. And you start   
writhing up and down like you do when my mouth goes there, and I have to put my   
hand on your hip to hold you down."  
  
"Stop!" Jake cried, a shiver running though her. She didn't want to explode in   
the Flemings' front yard.  
  
Hamilton smiled and asked, "What are *you* thinking?"  
  
"I'm thinking we need to get up to your room so we can finish this conversation   
in a less theoretical way."  
  
"Nope!" Hamilton said, jumping up to his feet.  
  
"What?!"  
  
"I want you to suffer the agony of unfulfilled expectations."  
  
"Oh, come on --"  
  
"Turned on?"  
  
"Very."  
  
"Then you need a cold shower." He scooped up a wad of snow and dropped it on her   
face.   
  
"Ahh!" she cried, snow falling into her mouth.  
  
Hamilton laughed and then bolted away. Jake jumped to her feet and wiped the   
snow off her face as she chased after him all the way across the yard to the   
main quad.   
  
"Hamilton!"  
  
He turned and yelled over his shoulder, "You think you can catch me?"   
  
She didn't stand a chance. Not only was he stronger and faster than she was, but   
he was also apparently more adept at running through snow. He disappeared around   
the side of the dining hall, and when she finally rounded the corner he slowed   
and let her catch him. Now they were safely out of view from his parents. She   
grabbed him and pushed him back against the wall. She leaned toward him, but he   
turned his face away, smiling evilly.  
  
"One kiss, Hamilton," she begged.  
  
"No, I don't think so."  
  
"Oh, God, please. Please!" She tried to catch his lips with her own, but he kept   
turning his face the other way, dodging.  
  
Finally, with a sigh of frustration, she gave up, and only then did he look   
straight at her. He took off one of his gloves and put his hand on her face,   
stroking her cheek gently with his naked fingers. It sent a tremor through her,   
and every cell in her body started tingling.  
  
"I love you," he whispered, his blue eyes boring into her, injecting her with   
heat. She was warm everywhere, melting into the snow. She leaned into him one   
last time, closed her eyes. Her lips were just touching his...  
  
"Psych!" Hamilton yelled as he ducked away, then ran back toward the quad.  
  
Jake could only lean against the wall, trying to calm herself. She realized   
that, as was the saying, turnabout was fair play. And since she was making him   
wait, and he had no idea why, maybe she should be strong and stick to the plan.  
Collecting herself, she turned around the corner.  
  
And there he was, leaning against the wall, waiting for her.  
  
She debated giving him an apology for playing so hot and cold. But before she   
could say anything, he grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him. This time, she   
waited for him to bring his lips to hers, which he did. He grasped her head in   
his hands and kissed her deeply, passionately, his soft lips enveloping her, his   
tongue meeting her own and then flickering over her lips and teeth. She grabbed   
at him, lacing her fingers into his hair. The cold afternoon disappeared, and   
they were lost in warmth.   
  
It was over all too quickly. Jake took a moment to catch her breath.  
  
"Hamilton, you don't have to --"  
  
"Don't have to kiss you? Did you seriously think I didn't want to? God, I wish   
that were true." He peered at her intently. "I know I said I wasn't going to   
push things with us, Jake. But I don't think you realize how crazy you make me.   
What you do to me. Every time you kiss me like that, Jake. Every single time."   
He pulled her closer and pressed his pelvis against hers to show her. "You can   
play the boy all you like, but at the end of the day, you don't have one of   
these, and you don't know how it feels."   
  
"Actually, I'm kind of feeling it right now."  
  
Suddenly, Hamilton pushed her away. "Oh, shit!" he cried. He was looking past   
her now, across the quad.   
  
Jake turned and looked toward Hamilton's house, where a car was pulling into the   
driveway.  
  
"That's my mom," he said. They watched Kate get out of the car and pull out a   
bag of groceries.  
  
"Do you think she saw us?"   
  
Hamilton quickly stepped away from Jake. "I don't know."  
  
Kate looked around, searching the yard, and then she definitely did see them.   
She waved and pointed to the groceries.  
  
"I think she wants some help," Jake said.  
  
Hamilton nodded, and they headed toward the driveway.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Kate was her normal cheerful self as they carried groceries into the house, so   
Hamilton relaxed a bit. But dinner was still awkward, and he avoided making eye   
contact with either Jake or his mother. This left only his father, whom he   
normally tried to avoid anyway, so Hamilton excused himself from the table as   
quickly as possible.  
  
After dinner, they settled in the living room to watch another movie. Hamilton   
took an armchair off to the side and left the couch to Jake. But as it was his   
fourth viewing of 'The Matrix,' he failed to lose himself in it, and Jake could   
see how distracted he was. She picked up the remote control and shut the TV off.  
  
"Do you want to go for a walk?" she asked.  
  
For a moment he didn't say anything but just stared at the blank TV screen, and   
Jake thought he might turn her down. But finally he said, "Yeah, let's go for a   
walk."  
  
Outside, the moonlight shimmered over the snow. Jake and Hamilton, hands in   
their pockets, walked silently away from the house and down the plowed empty   
road. The wind had picked up, and it burned their ears with the cold as it   
stirred up the snowdrifts around them. The silence was broken when they both   
spoke at once.   
  
"Are you mad at me?" they asked simultaneously. Startled, they looked at each   
other and then laughed softly.  
  
"You first," Jake said.  
  
Hamilton's face turned pensive again. He looked down and kicked at a chunk of   
ice in the road. "Of course I'm not mad at you, Jake. I'm just..."  
  
"Confused?"  
  
"Yeah. I mean, I'm not confused about how I feel. About you. I know that I love   
you." He looked up at her quickly, as if just realizing that he should look at   
her when he said it.  
  
"And you know that I love you, too, right?" Jake probed.  
  
"I guess. But there's loving and then there's... wanting."  
  
"Wanting... sex?"  
  
"You don't have a moral problem with it, right?"  
  
"Right."  
  
"And your mom essentially gave you her blessing."  
  
"Oh, like that has anything to do with anything."  
  
"But what I mean is, she doesn't think we're too young."  
  
"I don't think we're too young, either, Hamilton. I used to, but now... I don't   
think doing it with you would ever be wrong."   
  
"So then I have to assume you're just not interested."  
  
"Not interested? Oh, my God. I think about sex all the time, Hamilton. And trust   
me, I want it. What do I have to do to make you realize that? Just because I   
don't talk about it constantly and thrust my pelvis at you to--"  
  
"Mm, I *wish* you talked about it constantly and thrust your--"  
  
"Yeah, yeah," she cut him off. "Seriously, I don't know what made you think I   
don't want you every bit as much as you want me."  
  
"Hmm, let's see. I guess it's because I keep wanting to have sex with you, and   
you keep saying no."  
  
"Twice, Hamilton. That happened twice. And both times I had the same reason. I   
want it to be special. I don't want it to be a rush job because Will or Scout or   
some teacher or even your father could walk in on us. I want it to be safe, in   
more ways than one. And I don't want it to be when one of us has to get up and   
go home afterwards."  
  
"That's it? You want me to spend the night with you? Baby, that's what we've got   
right now."  
  
"I know. But you have to accept that I'm neurotic, and I needed to know that   
that index card stayed up all night."  
  
"But wait... did it?"  
  
Jake hesitated, her dark eyes glowing in the silvery moonlight. Then she nodded.   
"Yes."  
  
Hamilton stopped walking and turned to face her. "So what are you saying?"  
  
"I'm saying... it's freezing out here. Let's go inside and warm up."  
  
Hamilton exhaled slowly, almost whistling. Then he pulled her into his arms and   
pressed his warm lips against her cold forehead. "I know what will warm you up,"   
he whispered.  
  
* * * * *  
  
But instead of taking her up to his bedroom, he led her into the kitchen. Kate   
was there, pouring a glass of water.  
  
"What are you boys doing out in the cold this time of night? Not plotting   
another prank, are you?"  
  
Jake and Hamilton looked at each other, then turned and gawked at Kate.  
  
She smiled and raised an eyebrow at her son. "Oh, get over yourself, Hamilton.   
Did you really think I couldn't tell that was you? I watched it. I'd recognize   
my son's artistry anywhere."  
  
"You didn't tell Dad, did you?"  
  
"Of course not. You know your father lacks any --"  
  
"Imagination or sense of humor?"  
  
"I was going to say 'flexibility about breaking the rules,' but you get the   
idea. Besides, without any proof, he'd never get a conviction. So you're spared   
the grounding, this time. But next time..."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Lose the heavy metal music. It was all wrong. And could you try doing something   
with real paint and pencils? Those computer art programs are going to put me out   
of business." She gave Jake a pointed look.  
  
"OK, Mom." Hamilton smiled and started taking off his coat.  
  
"All right, guys, I'm off to bed. You want me to build a fire first, so you can   
warm up?"  
  
"Nah, I'm gonna make us some hot chocolate."  
  
"OK, good night," Kate called as she walked though the door to the stairs.  
  
"Good night, Mom."  
  
"Good night, Mrs. Fleming."  
  
Hamilton went to the cupboard and looked inside.  
  
"You're really making hot chocolate?" Jake asked.  
  
"I told you I had something that'd warm you up." He pulled out two packets of   
Swiss Miss. "Here we have instant hot chocolate, rife with preservatives,   
or...." With a flourish, he produced a can of Hershey's Cocoa from the cabinet.   
"We can make the real thing, from scratch."  
  
"Don't you have to heat up milk for that?"  
  
"Yeah, that's what makes it good."  
  
"Sounds like a pain." Jake took the packet of Swiss Miss. "This has those little   
marshmallows in it. I love those."  
  
"But we have real marshmallows."  
  
"I like these."  
  
"Wait a minute. You'd rather have dehydrated, reconstituted marshmallows from an   
envelope than the big, fluffy, real marshmallows that will melt into a delicious   
froth over your cocoa?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Hamilton shook his head. "OK. Whatever."  
  
Jake watched as he filled the teakettle with water. She walked up slowly behind   
him and whispered, "Hey, while you make the cocoa, I'm gonna go upstairs and   
change."  
  
"OK," Hamilton replied.   
  
"Your parents are both in bed?"  
  
"I guess."  
  
"So, maybe... I'll change into something more comfortable?"  
  
Hamilton set the kettle down on the stove and turned around to look at her. She   
grinned at him suggestively and placed her hands on his chest.  
  
"Maybe I should just bring the cocoa upstairs," he said.  
  
Jake said nothing more but pursed her lips at him in an air kiss and then turned   
and trotted up the stairs.  
  
As Hamilton fixed the hot cocoa, he wondered what she was changing into.   
Hopefully nothing at all, he thought. A quick fantasy passed through his mind of   
Jake slowly sauntering down those stairs au natural. He had seen her totally   
naked only twice, but those moments had been rushed and self-conscious. He'd   
never had time to explore, and now he couldn't form a perfect image of her naked   
body in his mind. So he consoled himself by envisioning her in various states on   
undress.   
  
Maybe she has a teddy, he thought. Something skimpy and lacy and red. She looks   
great in red, and it's a Christmas color.   
  
Hamilton shook his head. Why didn't he think of that sooner? He could've bought   
her a teddy. Stupid stupid stupid. Well, he didn't care what she was wearing. It   
was all going to end up on the floor next to his bed anyway.   
  
Hamilton smiled to himself as he set the frothy cups on the table and sat down.   
Tonight would be the night. He was sure of it.   
  
And no sooner had his mental arousal reached full fever pitch than he heard her   
faint footsteps reach the bottom of the stairs, soft and slow -- feminine steps,   
not like her usual boyish stomping. Maybe his fantasy was coming true... He   
started to turn around but then realized that she was trying to sneak up on him,   
tip-toeing toward him across the linoleum. He loved it. He didn't turn around   
but played along with her little game.  
  
She stopped directly behind him and ran her fingers through his hair, then   
placed the softest kiss on his temple.  
  
"Grrrrrr..." he growled, long and low, letting the growl soften into a meow that   
invited her to continue that kiss on down his neck.  
  
The hand in his hair froze, then retreated. And then a voice...   
  
"Munchie?"  
  
Now Hamilton froze.   
  
It wasn't Jake behind him.   
  



	5. A New Arrival

Title: The Best Christmas Ever, part 5 of 7  
  
Author: Depudor  
  
Email: l_brew@email.msn.com  
  
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Steven Antin and Columbia/Tristar Television. No infringement intended.  
  
Thanks: To beta beauties Debi and Sue for their support and encouragement.  
  
Feedback: Please.  
  
_____________________________________________________________________________  
  
  
Hamilton stared down into his hot chocolate, unable to turn and face his mother, knowing that the surprise and confusion in her voice would be reflected in her face. But he had to say something... respond...  
  
"Yeah Mom?" he replied, still not turning around as he choked out the words.  
  
Kate stared at the back of his head for a moment. "I forgot to tell you earlier, there was a message for you on the answering machine when I got home."  
  
"Oh." But before he could ask whom it was from, he heard the bounce of footsteps on the landing at the head of the stairs, loud enough that he knew *that* was definitely Jake. For a moment he was relieved that someone was coming to break the incredible tension in the air, but then he remembered... He didn't know what she'd be wearing.  
  
"Mom!" he yelled, jumping up from his chair. He heard the footsteps stop and retreat.  
  
"What?" asked Kate, startled.  
  
"Um... I just remembered that I forgot something."  
  
He turned and fled up the stairs.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Hamilton lay in bed staring at the ceiling, nearly catatonic. Wrapped in her bathrobe, Jake sprawled out next to him, trying to comfort him in his trauma. She ran her fingers through his hair.  
  
"Please don't do that," he begged. The very feeling made his stomach turn.  
  
Jake pulled her fingers away. "Hamilton, come on..."  
  
"Aren't you upset about this? If my mom starts asking questions..."  
  
"Hey, I got a lucky break. I could've been caught going down those stairs dressed like Jacqueline. I can't believe I was so stupid."  
  
"When you say 'dressed like Jacqueline'..."  
  
"You want to find out?" She bent down and tried to kiss him, but he couldn't kiss back. "So is this why we're not going to fool around tonight? It's starting to seem like the fates are allied against us."  
  
"Jake, I just made sex noises at my mother."  
  
"Those aren't sex noises, Ham! You make those noises all the time, and you've never had sex."  
  
He rolled his eyes at her. "Thanks a lot."   
  
"And at this rate, you never will."  
  
Hamilton sighed. "Just give me a minute, Jake. I'll be fine."  
  
Jake thought she knew how to help. She leaned down and slid her tongue into his ear, nibbling the earlobe with her bottom teeth. She rubbed her hand slowly down his stomach. No response. Hamilton continued to stare at the ceiling.  
  
"There are two possibilities here," he said. "Either she just thinks I'm a freak--"  
  
"She won't think you're a freak."  
  
"Or she'll think I was expecting *you* and that I'm gay."  
  
"Maybe she didn't even think those were sex noises."  
  
"Jake, trust me -- it was pretty clear that I was... You don't even want to know what I was thinking about when she..."  
  
"Actually, I would love to know what you were thinking about."  
  
Hamilton took his eyes off the ceiling for a moment and laid them on his girlfriend. Maybe this would help. "Well, I was thinking about you, obviously. Picturing you..."  
  
"Yeah...?"  
  
"In a teddy."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Yeah... red..."  
  
"Uh-huhhh..." She began to run her fingers over his stomach again.  
  
"And lacy..."  
  
"And...?"  
  
"And... tight... and... Oh, my God, it was my mother!" He slapped his hands over his face.  
  
Jake got up off his bed and sat down on her own. "OK, I can see this isn't helping. Let's just try to get some sleep."  
  
"I may need therapy."  
  
"Hamilton, you're dating a girl whom the entire the entire school thinks is a guy. If you didn't need therapy, I'd think there was something wrong with you."  
  
* * * * *  
  
The morning of Christmas Eve dawned gray with flurries of snow. Hamilton had tossed and turned all night, and when Jake awoke she saw that his covers were all bunched up around his waist. She got up and tried to straighten them and cover him up without waking him, but his eyes suddenly flew open.  
  
They looked at each other for a moment, then Hamilton squeezed his eyes shut and covered his face, remembering that the thing he'd hoped was only a nightmare was not a nightmare at all.  
  
"I can't go downstairs," he moaned.  
  
"Fine. You want breakfast in bed?"  
  
"Yeah, why not? If she already thinks I'm gay, why shouldn't I have you make me breakfast?"  
  
"Yeah. If only I could cook. Guess you'll have to get up."  
  
Hamilton rejected this idea by rolling over and stuffing his face into his pillow.  
  
"Come on, Hamilton. It's Christmas Eve. You can't stay in bed all day."  
  
He lifted his head to look out the window at the opaque sky. "Looks like a good day for it."  
  
"What about the big feast, and opening presents?"  
  
"What about my mother? What do I say if she--"  
  
He was interrupted by a knock on the door.  
  
"Hamilton?" Kate called.  
  
Hamilton looked nervously at Jake, then replied, "Yeah?"  
  
"A package just came for you."  
  
He wrinkled his brow, but got up and opened the door, doing his best to avoid eye contact with his mother.  
  
"We seem to be keeping FedEx in business these days," Kate said, handing Hamilton the large envelope. She smiled at him, then looked past him at Jake, her gaze lingering.   
  
"Good morning," Jake said.  
  
"Good morning, Jake," Kate replied. "Why don't you guys come down now and get some breakfast? I want to start dinner preparations soon, and it'll be easier if I have you out of the way. Although, I may need your help in the kitchen later. If you don't mind being on pie patrol."  
  
"OK," Hamilton said. He read the label on his FedEx as Kate left. "Hey, it's from--" He stopped, a look of confusion falling over his face.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"I just remembered... I have to check the answering machine." And he ran out the door and down the stairs.  
  
* * * * *  
  
While Jake and Hamilton ate breakfast, Kate finished wrapping presents, and soon there was a giant pile under the tree. Jake had never seen so many presents.  
  
"Do your parents have other kids that you didn't tell me about?" she asked as they wandered into the living room.  
  
"Nope. Just one very greedy kid." Hamilton rubbed his hands together eagerly as he stepped up to the tree.  
  
Jake watched him, curiosity tingling her stomach the way it had on Christmas Eve when she was a child. He wouldn't tell her what was in the FedEx - only that it was a surprise - but whatever it was had successfully taken his mind off of his mother. And yet, Jake noted, beneath the excitement on his face there was a new layer of nervousness.  
  
He turned to her and frowned. "It's too bad we couldn't have your mom send your presents here. There's not going to be much for you to open."  
  
"It's OK."  
  
"Although..." Hamilton said with suspicion, picking up a large gift with a tag that said, in his mother's elegant handwriting, 'To Jake, From Santa,' "I could've sworn this one had my name on it yesterday."  
  
Jake had to laugh - Hamilton seemed genuinely jealous that his mother was giving some of his presents away. But she liked the idea, simply because they'd probably be better gifts than the ones from her own mother, which was why she was glad her presents weren't there. Her mother used to know what to get her, or maybe as a child she'd just been easily pleased. Monica had always given her gifts that made her feel so grown up -- perfume from Paris when she was seven, Italian leather gloves at nine when all the other girls were still wearing mittens, a straight-from-the-studio Versace gown when she was twelve. But by thirteen Jacqueline was more into computers than couture, and that was a world Monica knew nothing about. So the Christmas gifts became one more reminder of how little Monica knew about her daughter.  
  
"I should run up and get your present," Jake said, remembering that she had something else to add to his haul.  
  
"Just one? I thought you said that suitcase was full of them."  
  
"Just one that you can open in front of your parents," she whispered, giving him a wink.  
  
Hamilton started to give her a tantalized smile in return, but then he looked back under the tree, remembering something himself. "Good point," he said. He grabbed a small gold-wrapped package, tucked it underneath his shirt and headed upstairs.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Four o'clock rolled around quickly, and Hamilton and Jake had barely finished watching 'It's a Wonderful Life' when they were summoned to the kitchen to roll out the dough for the pie crusts. Hamilton shot Jake a warning look, and she quickly wiped away the lone tear that streaked down her cheek as the movie ended.  
  
She followed him into the kitchen, where the air was thick with the delicious aroma of roasting goose. But she wrinkled her nose as she spotted the bowl of blackish-brown goop that sat on the counter next to the pie crust dough. "What's that?"  
  
"Mincemeat, for the pie," Kate replied. She saw the look on Jake's face and added, "Don't worry. We also have pumpkin."  
  
Hamilton leaned close to Jake and whispered, "Be nice. She only makes stuff from scratch once a year, so we try to be encouraging."  
  
"I head that," Kate said. She handed Hamilton an apron. "Here, put this on."  
  
"No way. I am not wearing an apron."  
  
"I don't want you getting flour all over your clothes."  
  
"Then don't make me work in the kitchen." He hung the apron back on its hook and then pulled his black sweater over his head and hung that up as well, so that he was wearing just a T-shirt. Then he grabbed a square pinewood board and laid it on the counter.  
  
"What's that?" Jake asked.  
  
"A pastry board," Hamilton replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
"Wow. That's so Williams-Sonoma."  
  
Hamilton opened a canister and sprinkled flour all over the board. Then he picked up a rolling pin and started rubbing flour all over that.  
  
"Look at you, Ham, all domestic."  
  
He simply nodded, unfazed. "My mom always puts me in charge of the pies." He scooped up a chunk of dough from the bowl, dropped it on the board, and went to work.  
  
And suddenly, Jake's teasing smile melted away. She'd caught sight of Hamilton's chest, his muscles rippling beneath his shirt as he forced the rolling pin down into the mound of cold, hard dough and then pushed forward. Biceps flexing, he rolled back and forth briskly, his sinewy arms pressing down hard, subduing the dough as if it were a savage beast. In a matter of seconds, he had tamed it into a perfectly flat circle, and Jake now understood why Hamilton was in charge of the pies.   
  
"That's great, honey," said Kate, walking over to look. "You're so good at that."  
  
"It's a lot like rowing crew," he commented. He gave Jake a surreptitious wink, and she suddenly realized just how much she missed crew. Damn that frozen lake!  
  
Hamilton carefully peeled up the fragile crust and laid it in a pie plate, and he then blopped another mound of dough onto the board just as Kate asked, "Jake, could you get the cranberries out of the freezer for me?"  
  
"Um... yeah," Jake replied. But her feet didn't seem to move. Hamilton looked sideways at her, and she whispered, "Could you hold off on that for just a second? I'll be right back."  
  
She sprinted over to the freezer and opened it, cool air bursting out into the warm kitchen. It took her several seconds to locate the cranberries, but then she spotted them hiding behind the peas. She grabbed them, closed the freezer, and threw them down on the counter next to Kate.  
  
"Thanks, Jake. Can you put them in that bowl for me and set it toward the back of the stove?"  
  
Jake ripped open the bag and tried to pour the berries into the bowl Kate had pointed to. But they were all frozen together in a big block, and she found herself having to break off chunks to get it into the little bowl. It seemed a painstakingly slow process, and she noticed that Hamilton had already resumed his rolling. She watched him from behind now, his arms pushing forward, his back and shoulders leaning into it.  
  
"So, Jake," Kate said, distracting her again, "do you do any cooking at home?"  
  
"They have a cook at Jake's house," Hamilton said over his shoulder.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"No, well, not a professional cook," Jake explained. "We have a housekeeper who does the cooking. She used to be my nanny, when I was little."  
  
"And she's stayed with your family all these years? That's wonderful."  
  
"Well, my family is just my mom and me. But it made it easier for my mom to travel a lot, 'cause she never had to feel like she was leaving me with strangers." Jake finally got all of the cranberries into the little bowl. "You said you want these on the stove?"  
  
"Yes, just set them between the back burners so they can start thawing. Steven will be here in a minute to make the sauce. That's his contribution to dinner."  
  
"Cranberry sauce is the one thing my dad knows how to make," Hamilton explained.  
  
"So you eat cranberry sauce with a goose?" Jake asked.  
  
"We do," Kate said. She and Hamilton shared a laugh, but Jake didn't get the joke.  
  
Hamilton turned to look at Jake and repeated, "Cranberry sauce is the one thing my dad knows how to make."  
  
Jake nodded and smiled as the thought crossed her mind -- So this is what Christmas dinner is like in a real family.  
  
And as if on cue, she could hear the front door opening, and soon Dean Fleming strolled into the kitchen. Jake had finally reached the point where she could see him enter the room without her palms sweating and her stomach tying up.   
  
He walked over to his wife and kissed her cheek. "Merry Christmas, Katie."  
  
"Merry Christmas, sweetie," she replied. "Your berries are on the stove."  
  
The Dean started rolling up his sleeves as he walked over to Jake, then threw an arm around her shoulders and gave her a painful squeeze. "Jake, old boy, did I tell you how thrilled I am that you've joined us for Christmas?"  
  
"No, Sir. I mean, thank you."  
  
"You've done a great job keeping Hamilton out of his mother's hair, and that's a task. Say, is Jake short for something? Jacob?"  
  
"No. Just Jake."  
  
"Just Jake. Well, that's original. Your mother's an actress?"  
  
"Yes, Sir."  
  
"Yeah, that's original."   
  
And then the Dean let go of Jake and did something that really surprised her. He turned to Hamilton, who was still facing the counter, stepped up behind him, wrapped his arms around his neck, and kissed the top of his head.  
  
"Merry Christmas, Ham," he said into his son's hair.   
  
Jake had never seen the Dean show affection with Hamilton, but then, she figured it was something he probably wouldn't do in front of the other students. Yet even more surprising was Hamilton's reaction. Perhaps he had released all of his tension by pounding it into that dough, Jake thought, because she saw his shoulders settle, and for the first time that week, he seemed to completely relax.   
  
He turned his head to look up at his father and said softly, sincerely, "Merry Christmas, Dad." And at that moment, he looked twelve years old.  
  
The Dean went back to the stove and picked up his cranberries. "All right, are you kids almost done here?" he asked. "Because I'm going to need some room."  
  
"I'll be done in a second," Hamilton said.  
  
"Jake, do you like cranberry sauce?"  
  
"Yes, Sir."  
  
"Good. I can make it from scratch. None of that canned jelly stuff here. You can brag to all the other kids that Dean Fleming cooked for you."  
  
* * * * *  
  
The next hour passed in culinary chaos. Everyone was doing something. A variety of smells mingled in the air, each one better than the last. Kate showed Jake how to fill the pies, lay on the top crust, and pinch the edges to make them fluted. Then they popped them in the oven. Hamilton, meanwhile, was reassigned from pies to potatoes, and he was less than pleased. The Dean made a big production out of making cranberry sauce, which seemed to Jake to consist simply of cooking the berries in a saucepan with sugar and a little cognac.  
  
By six o'clock, one of the pies had started to boil out of its crust, and soon the panoply of delicious smells was completely overpowered by the scent of mincemeat burning onto the bottom of the oven. Hamilton kept insisting that he had told them that the crust was overfilled and that if they had left him in charge of pies, none of this would have happened. This led to Hamilton's banishment from the kitchen, and he and Jake were put to work setting the table.  
  
Jake noticed the lack of decoration in the dining room. "I figured your mom would put together some big fancy centerpiece or something."  
  
"Yeah, we used to have one of those. Then Martha Stewart came along, and my mom decided it was all too cliché. Or bourgeois. I can't remember."  
  
They had just finished laying four place settings when there was a knock on the front door. Hamilton and Jake exchanged a look and then went to answer it together.  
  
"Finn!" Hamilton shouted as he opened the door. "I didn't think you were coming."  
  
"I wasn't. But then I had a very last-minute change of plans." Finn quickly came in out of the bitter cold, and they closed the door behind him.  
  
"Finn!" the Dean called, stepping into the front hallway. "We didn't think you were coming."  
  
"Hi, Steven. I had a last-minute change of plans," Finn repeated. "I hope the offer still stands." He held out a bottle of wine. "Merry Christmas."  
  
"Of course, of course. Merry Christmas."   
  
The last person to step into the hallway was Kate, and the look on her face was like a cold draft blowing down the hall. Finn turned around to make sure the door was closed.  
  
"Finn," she said simply, wiping a dishtowel over the gravy boat she was holding. "You decided to join us after all."  
  
"Merry Christmas, Kate."  
  
For a moment they just stared at each other, and then Kate said, "I'm afraid dinner isn't ready yet. Why don't you have a seat in the living room? Hamilton, will you put another leaf in the table and set another place?"  
  
  
  



	6. Finn Saves the Day

Title: The Best Christmas Ever, part 6 of 7  
  
Author: Depudor  
  
Email: l_brew@email.msn.com  
  
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Steven Antin and Columbia/Tristar Television. No infringement intended.  
  
Summary: This is the sequel to Winter Wonderland. Jake and Hamilton spend Christmas together and compete to give each other the best present, but find their desires - and intentions - to be at odds with each other.  
  
Thanks: To beta beauties Debi and Sue for their support and encouragement, and to Wonka for letting herself get roped into it.  
  
Feedback: Please.  
  
_____________________________________________________________________________  
  
  
Dinner was subdued compared to the chaotic preparations. Kate was quieter than Jake had seen her at any point in the last four days. Dean Fleming, however, was still in a jubilant mood.  
  
"This goose is really amazing, Kate," he said. "And I didn't think anything could top last year's."  
  
"Yeah, Mrs. Fleming," Jake concurred. "It's great."   
  
"Thank you," Kate replied.  
  
Jake looked at the Dean and added, "The cranberry sauce is really working for me, too."  
  
The Dean smiled, as if he'd known it all along. It was the same knowing smile that Jake had seen so often on Hamilton's face.  
  
"I certainly can't complain," said Finn. "It's so rare that I get a home-cooked meal."  
  
"I know the feeling," Hamilton sighed.  
  
"Hamilton --" his father warned.  
  
But Kate didn't seem to notice. She was still focused on Finn.   
  
Jake looked up and watched them as she chewed. She could sense some kind of tension. She looked across the table at Hamilton to see if he noticed, but his face was staring hungrily down at his food. She knew the only thing on his mind other than eating was the hope that his father wouldn't bring up his English Lit exam.  
  
"So, Finn," the Dean asked, "how did my son do on his English final?"  
  
Hamilton stopped chewing and tried to swallow as he looked up at Finn. His teacher smiled at him and said nothing for a tortuous few seconds until he turned to the Dean and replied, with an approving nod, "I have to tell you, Steven, I was absolutely astounded by some of the things he wrote."  
  
Hamilton almost choked as he swallowed, and he started coughing loudly. His father reached over and clapped him on the back as he said, "Really? How so?"  
  
"Hamilton has quite an imagination, not to mention -- how shall I say? -- an eye for the unusual." Hamilton and Jake exchanged a look as Finn concluded, "I've really enjoyed having him in my class. And Jake as well."  
  
The rest of the meal passed uneventfully. Jake summoned the courage to try the mincemeat pie, once Hamilton assured her that it didn't taste like meat. But it turned out she wasn't such a huge fan of spiced raisins and dates, either.   
  
"Fortunately," Kate said, "I picked up some Christmas cookies at the bakery." She headed back to the kitchen, stopping to ask, "Would anyone like coffee?"  
  
"I'd love some," Finn said.  
  
Dean Fleming got up from the table. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'm going to go start a fire."  
  
"Are we moving this party into the living room?" Finn asked as he was left alone with Jake and Hamilton.  
  
"After dinner, we open presents," Hamilton explained.  
  
"You open presents tonight? What do you do tomorrow?"  
  
"We sleep in, then go to church." He looked at Jake. "You can come if you want, no pressure. Then we come home and eat leftovers, because all the restaurants are closed and my mom has some rule against cooking two days in a row."  
  
"She has a rule?" said Jake.  
  
"Yeah. It's some feminist thing... liberation from oppression, female stereotypes, something like that."  
  
"Your mom's my kind of woman," Jake said. She thought she saw Finn nod in agreement, but she wasn't sure.  
  
Hamilton was too busy finishing his pie to notice. "Hey, Mom," he yelled toward the kitchen. "Can we have the coffee and cookies in the living room so we can get started?"  
  
Kate reappeared in the doorway and smiled knowingly at her son. "I'm impressed that you've been as patient as you have, Munchie. This must be a record for you."  
  
Hamilton smirked at her.  
  
"Fine," she conceded, setting a pitcher of egg nog on the table. "I'll set everything out, and you guys can help yourselves if you get hungry."  
  
Hamilton grinned at Jake as he jumped from his seat and tore out of the room. Jake and Finn followed him into the living room and watched him sit on the floor in front of the tree and the presents. Finn picked up his coat off the back of the couch.  
  
"I should probably get going," he said.  
  
"No, stay," the Dean insisted. "You haven't even had your coffee yet."  
  
"But you guys are opening presents, and--"  
  
"So join in the fun. You can have some of Hamilton's presents."  
  
"Hey!" Hamilton protested. His father laughed.  
  
"I really shouldn't," said Finn.  
  
"Of course you should. The present opening won't take that long, and then the boys will go play and we adults can have some brandy and some grown-up conversation. It's been a while since I've checked up on what's going on in the world. I must be the most clueless man alive right now."  
  
Hamilton had to look at Jake again as he tried not to laugh, but she turned to Finn and put a hand on his arm. His presence that evening had been surprisingly comforting for her.   
  
"Please stay," she begged quietly. "I don't feel as much like the odd man out with you here."  
  
"Well... OK," Finn said.  
  
Kate walked into the living room, stopping at the stereo to put on a CD of Christmas carols. "OK what?"  
  
"Finn's going to stay for the festivities," her husband replied.  
  
She looked at Finn, her glare like ice, then turned back to the stereo. "Oh... OK."  
  
"Can I play Santa?" Hamilton asked, grabbing a large gift with a giant red bow.  
  
"Do I ever let you play Santa?" his father asked in reply.  
  
"No."  
  
"And nothing's changed."  
  
Jake laughed as Hamilton's face fell. The Dean took the box from him and sat down on a chair next to the tree. Kate joined Hamilton on the floor. It was an idyllic scene: the three of them before the pile of presents, the fire crackling in the fireplace, the lights of the tree twinkling and reflecting in the frosty panes of the bay windows, the voices of a choir joyously belting out carols from the stereo. Jake just watched for a moment until Finn motioned for her to join him on the loveseat by the fire.  
  
"Here, I saved you a seat in the non-Fleming section."  
  
Dean Fleming looked at the tag on the big box and sighed. "I guess we'll start with Hamilton."  
  
The part of Hamilton that had turned twelve when his father walked in was still with him. Jake watched him, and it made her smile. He was giddy with anticipation. And as he unwrapped his numerous presents, Jake understood why. Not only were the gifts plentiful, they were expensive -- and exactly what he wanted. The deluxe tripod and other photography equipment were from his mother, who was always willing to support his hobby by keeping track of what he needed. The digital camera was a surprise, an added bonus. The Playstation 2 was an even bigger surprise.  
  
"Oh, my God!!," he cried as he ripped away the paper. "How did you get this? They're, like, impossible to find."  
  
The Dean smiled. "Turns out the design engineer -- a Rawley grad."  
  
"No way."  
  
"Way," his mother replied.  
  
Hamilton looked at Jake, expecting her to be as psyched as he was. But Jake's smile had wilted into a frown, the same frown he had seen on her face when she had fled the kitchen the previous morning. It was the frown she always wore when she was thinking about her mother.  
  
"Jake..." Hamilton began, wanting to ask if she was OK but not wanting to sound too concerned.  
  
She forced a smile, not wanting to ruin his fun. But she leaned over to Finn and whispered, "I need to run upstairs for a sec." Finn stopped her as she tried to get up.   
  
"Are you OK?" he asked.  
  
"I can't watch this," she whispered. "I hate to sound like a stupid jealous kid, but... it's just too hard."  
  
"Well, from one stupid jealous kid to another, come with me to get some eggnog."  
  
Finn got up, and Jake followed him into the dining room, motioning to Hamilton to continue with his unwrapping. The other Flemings barely noticed, focused as they were on Hamilton.  
  
"I know it's hard," Finn said quietly. "Hamilton doesn't realize how good he has it. But that's the thing about holidays. They're the best time of year to spend with your family. But the loneliest time of year if you're not with them."  
  
"Why aren't you with your family?"  
  
Finn picked up the carafe of coffee and poured some into a gold-rimmed china cup. "I ask myself that question a lot... Coffee?"  
  
"Sure," Jake said.   
  
He handed her the cup and poured another, staring thoughtfully at it as he explained, "Our lives diverged, and old wounds never got a chance to heal."  
  
"And how do those wounds heal, exactly?"  
  
Finn picked up the pitcher of egg nog and poured some into his coffee. He didn't notice Jake smile, because he was carefully choosing his next words:  
  
"With patience and forgiveness. With realizing that people fail us, because they're not perfect. With communicating, telling them how we feel instead of just holding it all inside. Jake, have you ever told your mother that you feel like she doesn't know you?"  
  
"Um, well... not in those words, no." She poured some egg nog into her own coffee and stirred it.  
  
Finn lowered his voice even more. "You thought it would be better to run off to school, dress up like a boy, and then keep her from finding out about it?"  
  
"She was supposed to find out. That was the original plan. The pre-Hamilton plan."  
  
"Uh-huh. So you can see where the passive-aggressive route got you."  
  
"I thought you were supposed to be helping, not making me feel worse."  
  
"At Rawley we don't coddle our students; we make them think. I'm suggesting that you work on your relationship with your mother by talking to her. If you get the chance, take it. Don't let anger and resentment get in the way. They'll grow and fester until you've gone too far to go back."  
  
Jake considered this as she sipped her coffee. "Maybe I'd rather just get to the point where I don't care anymore."  
  
"No, you don't stop caring. Love can be replaced by hate, but the emotion is still as strong. And Jake, a dysfunctional family is better than no family at all." He walked back to the doorway, looking into the living room, where Kate was opening a present. "You know, nobody's family is perfect, not even Hamilton's. Things just always look that way on the surface."  
  
Jake looked up at him, then peered through the doorway. The Flemings looked so happy, like such the perfect family. Yeah, Jake thought, Hamilton always complained that his father was too wrapped up in his job, but they all seemed to genuinely love each other and want to be together.  
  
"And how are you handling the stress?" Finn asked.  
  
"The stress?"  
  
"Of your charade. Your double life?"  
  
"I guess I've gotten used to it."  
  
"You're pretty good at it, I must say."  
  
"It's the actress in me."  
  
Across the room, Kate looked over and saw them in the doorway, then turned to her husband. "Steven, why don't you let Jake open some presents?"   
  
"All right." He called out, "Jake, come here. Let's see what Santa brought for you."  
  
Jake nodded a silent 'Thank you' to Finn and went to sit down next to Hamilton under the tree. The Dean handed her the gold-wrapped box that Hamilton had eyed that morning. They watched her as she carefully ripped away the paper and opened the box. It contained a stack of computer games.  
  
Jake grinned. "Mrs. Fleming, thank you so much. You didn't have to do that."  
  
"I didn't do anything. Thank Santa." She smiled at Hamilton, but he was looking at Jake. Kate turned around to see Finn watching all this from the dining room doorway, and she got up and approached him, glowering.   
  
Finn knew he was in for it.  
  
"You said you weren't coming," she snapped as she walked past him to the table, keeping her voice low enough that it wouldn't carry over the Christmas carols.  
  
"No, *you* said I wasn't coming. I made no promises."  
  
"You shouldn't be here."  
  
"I know."  
  
"In my home, with my family --"  
  
"I know."  
  
"This is a holiday. It's a sacred time."  
  
"I know."  
  
"So why are you here?"  
  
Finn sighed. "I don't know." But that wasn't true.  
  
Kate poured herself a cup of coffee and drilled her nails on the side of the cup. She didn't look at him as she said, "Just wanted to ruin my Christmas, huh?"   
  
"I didn't think having me here would ruin it for you."  
  
Now she turned her glare back on him. "What did you think I would--"  
  
"You know, Kate, not everything is about you," he interrupted. "Jake is going through a rough time. Could you imagine being sixteen and getting ditched by your mother -- your only family -- at Christmas?"  
  
"Don't get me started on Jake."  
  
"Is there a problem?"  
  
Kate looked through the doorway as Jake unwrapped another gift. "I don't want to talk about this," she said. "It's Christmas."  
  
Finn looked at his watch. "Not for another three hours, actually."  
  
Kate rolled her eyes but said nothing. Normally, she would have shot right back at him, but now she was distracted, watching her son watch Jake open the presents from his best friend.  
  
"Ah, yes..." Finn said, following her gaze toward the tree, where Jake was examining the unwrapped box.  
  
"A CD burner!" Jake exclaimed.  
  
"Not just any CD burner," Hamilton corrected her. "Look at the stacked drives. You can make multiple copies at the same time."  
  
"Oh, my God. That's so unbelievably cool. Thanks, man."  
  
Hamilton grinned, delighted that Jake was so happy.  
  
"Now I know what you needed all that money for," his father commented. He turned to find and Kate and Finn in the doorway and explained, "When I gave him his allowance last week, he asked if he qualified for a Christmas bonus."  
  
Finn laughed and looked at Kate, who wasn't laughing. She was still watching Hamilton. Finn eyed her for a moment, then whispered, "You know, Kate, believe it or not, there are going to be things in his life that are none of your business."  
  
"You know something about this?"   
  
"I know I wouldn't rush to assume anything. I was a 16-year-old boy once, and I know it can be a confusing time. And Jake is... well... Jake could make any heterosexual boy confused."  
  
Kate mulled this over. "I don't think Jake will be staying over here again."  
  
"That's too bad. 'Cause Jake's a great kid. A really great kid, who happens to be going through a lot right now. It's bad enough getting sent away to school, but then to be denied Christmas with your family... Can you imagine what that would do to a kid?"   
  
She shook her head, but she wasn't thinking about Jake. "I can't believe you know something about this and I don't."   
  
Finn looked at her, and he almost laughed, because he knew that ultimately what she was grappling with wasn't whether or not her son was gay, but rather the fact that he had a life of his own. "Kate you're right," he said finally, still keeping his voice below the music from the stereo. He waited until he had her attention, and then he continued, "This isn't my family, and I have no place here. But as someone who cares about you, and who cares about your son, let me offer you one piece of advice."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Let Hamilton work this out on his own. I know that's almost impossible for you, but don't get involved."  
  
She sighed but said nothing. Across the room, her husband handed another gift to Hamilton.  
  
"Ham, here's another one from me. Sorry, nothing electronic in there."  
  
Hamilton ripped away the ribbon and paper and opened the box. He pulled out three books and a small, flat box all tied together with a ribbon.  
  
"No offense to Finn," the Dean said with a smile, casting a glance toward the doorway, "but I feel that your literary education leans too heavily toward Western civilization. So, I put together something with an Asian theme. Siddhartha, the Bhagavad Gita, and some Basho."  
  
"And a zen rock garden?" Hamilton added, looking at the small box.  
  
"It's all a theme. Just so you know there's more to the Orient than egg rolls and feng shui."  
  
Kate couldn't help but smile at Finn, knowing what he was going to say.  
  
"Siddhartha was written by a German," Finn mumbled.  
  
"I know," Kate whispered. "But I guess we can't get away from the West altogether, can we?" The smile on her face faded slowly as she saw Hamilton set the books aside and move on to something else. She furrowed her brow, and a sadness settled in her eyes. "He loves Hamilton so much. I wish Hamilton could see it. Maybe Steven doesn't express it in the best way, but he's always thinking about him, about what he's learning, how he's developing, how prepared he is to go out into the big world."  
  
Finn stood silently for a moment, then turned and walked back to the table, where he set down his coffee cup. "Kate, I think it's time for me to be on my way."  
  
"You don't have to leave. I'm sorry I was so..."  
  
"Rude?"  
  
"Yes. It's just... this is hard."  
  
"I know." He held her gaze for a moment, then turned and walked back into the living room. He picked up his coat from the back of the couch. "Steven, thanks for having me, but I do need to get going."  
  
"But Finn, we're almost done, and then we'll have a nightcap before you go back out into the cold."  
  
"I shouldn't. I need to get up early tomorrow and drive up to the mountain. But it was a lovely dinner. Jake, Hamilton, enjoy the rest of your Christmas." The Dean started to rise, but Finn stopped him. "Don't get up. If you don't mind, I'll have Jake walk me to the door."  
  
The Dean sat back down and nodded. "OK. Merry Christmas, Finn," he said.  
  
"Merry Christmas to you all," Finn replied. Jake got up and followed him into the hallway and to the front door.  
  
"Thanks for the talk," she said.  
  
"My pleasure." He opened the door. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"  
  
"No, not so bad... Were, um, you and Mrs. Fleming talking about us?"  
  
"Your name might've come up."  
  
"Does she think we're..."  
  
"She doesn't know what to think. You're probably OK for now. But be careful."  
  
"OK, thanks. Goodnight, Finn."  
  
"Goodnight. And Jake, when I said be careful, I meant it. I'm telling you, man to man... you and Hamilton... be careful."  
  
"We will. I promise you that."  
  
Finn bent down and gave her a hug. "Merry Christmas, Jake."  
  
Then he walked out the door into the cold winter's night.   
  
  
  



	7. Unwrapping and Opening Up

Title: The Best Christmas Ever, part 7 of 7  
  
Author: Depudor  
  
Email: l_brew@email.msn.com  
  
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Steven Antin and Columbia/Tristar Television. No infringement intended.  
  
Summary: This is the sequel to Winter Wonderland. Jake and Hamilton spend Christmas together and compete to give each other the best present, but find their desires - and intentions - to be at odds with each other.  
  
Thanks: To beta beauties Debi and Sue for their support and encouragement, and to Wonka for letting herself get roped into it.  
  
Feedback: Please.  
  
_____________________________________________________________________________  
  
  
With the pile of presents under the tree reduced to a heap of paper, ribbon, and bows, Jake began helping Hamilton gather up his gifts to take upstairs.  
  
"I think we're going to have to make two trips," Hamilton said.   
  
"At least." She followed him toward the stairs as Kate walked back in from the dining room.  
  
"Don't run off, guys," Kate called. "Stay here and we can play a game or something."  
  
"I think we've got enough stuff to play with," Hamilton replied, his arms full.  
  
"No, I mean, altogether, as a family."  
  
"Oh, um, maybe tomorrow, Mom. I'm kind of tired."   
  
"Oh, come on, guys. I'll even let you put some brandy in your eggnog."  
  
"Kate!" Dean Fleming called from the dining room. "We don't offer alcohol to students."  
  
"Oh, Steven, it's Christmas."  
  
"Lawsuits don't take holidays."  
  
Hamilton shook his head. "Later, Mom," he called as he followed Jake up the stairs.  
  
They hurried into Hamilton's room, dumped the gifts onto the trundle bed and closed the door. For a few seconds they just looked at each other, then sighed with relief that they were finally alone together. A huge smile broke out on Hamilton's face, prompting one from Jake.   
  
"Merry Christmas, Jake."  
  
"Merry Christmas, Hamilton." She shook her head. "You didn't have to do all that."  
  
"I wanted to." He stepped up close to her and took her hands.   
  
"But it was so much. Aren't your parents going to think-"  
  
"That you're the most important person in the world to me?" He licked his lips and kissed her softly. "I think they already know."   
  
Now it was Jake's turn for some thirst-quenching. It was the first time he had kissed her since they'd played in the snow the day before. And she was relieved that he seemed back to normal after the incident with his mother. She knew she should argue with him, tell him that they should be more careful not to draw his parents' suspicion, but all she could think about was kissing those lips again. She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her lips to his, holding him as close as she possibly could, so close she could feel his quickening heartbeat through all their mutual layers of sweaters and shirts. She would have been happy to drown like that, never coming up for air, but Hamilton kept trying to say something...  
  
"Don't --" He could barely get the word out, because she recaptured his lips before he could say more. He tried again: "Don't you--" Again she cut him off with another kiss. Finally he pulled away long enough to ask, "Don't you want to open the rest of your presents?"  
  
She raised a curious eyebrow. "How many more presents are there?"  
  
Hamilton disentangled himself from her arms and gave her a small, challenging smile. "Are you ready?"  
  
"Ready for what?"  
  
"For the best Christmas ever."  
  
Jake looked down and shook her head, but came up grinning. She laced her fingers together and tried to crack her knuckles. "Let the games begin."  
  
They backed away from each other slowly, cautiously, as if counting paces in a duel. Then they turned away quickly, each diving for their corner. Hamilton threw open his closet and pulled out two more wrapped packages. Jake, meanwhile, dropped to her knees in front of the large suitcase that she had warned him to stay away from. She rummaged around inside, keeping the top lowered so he wouldn't be able to see. She pulled out a large box.  
  
Hamilton sat down cross-legged on the bed and patted the spot next to him. "Come here."  
  
She sat down and carefully examined the present he handed her. "Nice, Ham. You wrap this yourself?"   
  
"Just open it already."  
  
She ripped away the gold paper, lifted the lid of the box, and pushed aside the tissue paper to see a strip of black leather with a silver buckle.  
  
"A belt?" she said with surprise.   
  
"Yeah. Don't you like it?"  
  
"No, it's great. It's just... not what I was expecting."  
  
"You were expecting something for Jacqueline."  
  
"Well, yeah."  
  
Hamilton shrugged. "I wanted to get something for Jake, too. Something you can wear to class, that'll make you think of me."  
  
"I don't have to wear something from you to think about you in class. I do that anyway." She smiled and kissed him, then added, "But thank you, Hamilton. That's actually really sweet. And Jake will wear it every day."  
  
Hamilton wrinkled his nose. "What if it doesn't match your shoes?"   
  
Jake laughed and handed him the plain brown box she had pulled from her suitcase.  
  
"You're not so much into wrapping, huh?" he observed.  
  
"I didn't have any paper. And Jake's way too cool a dude to be buyin' that stuff."  
  
But before Hamilton could even lift the lid off the box, there was a knock on the door. Jake grabbed the box back, got up from Hamilton's bed and sat down on the trundle.  
  
"Yeah?" Hamilton called.  
  
Kate opened the door and poked her head in. "Merry Christmas, guys. Hamilton, I want you ready for church by 10:30, so if you're not up by 10:00, I'm waking you."  
  
"Fine."  
  
"Jake, you're welcome to join us if you'd like."  
  
"Sure, thanks."  
  
"We'll see you in the morning. Good night."  
  
"Goodnight, Mom. And thanks for everything."   
  
"Yeah, thanks Mrs. Fleming. I wasn't expecting all the gifts. That was really great."   
  
"You're welcome." Kate lingered again for a moment, then disappeared and closed the door after her.  
  
Jake got up off the trundle bed and smiled with relief, but Hamilton's eyes lingered on the belt. He bit his lip and looked away, bothered by something. She sat down next to him again and put her hand on his knee.   
  
"What?" she asked.  
  
He turned back to her with eyes that wavered somewhere between sadness and guilt. "I'm sorry you didn't get to take a break from being guy."  
  
Jake smiled and ran one finger along his lower lip. "I could take a break right now," she whispered.  
  
She knew he wasn't going to object. Reaching under her sweater, she removed her corset and tossed it aside. Hamilton's eyes begged her to keep going. She grabbed the bottom of her blue sweater and pulled it up over her head, static electricity pulling up strands of her hair as it went. Underneath, she wore a charcoal gray turtleneck, one of several she'd brought with her to Hamilton's house since turtlenecks were handy for obscuring the fact that she didn't have an Adam's apple.   
  
Jake looked at Hamilton. His eyes were eating her, gazing hungrily from her face down to her chest, where the gray cotton of the turtleneck curved and clung to breasts now free from the corset. His eyes climbed back up to her face. She gave him a small but inviting smile. He reached up to cup her breasts, his thumbs running back and forth until he could feel her nipples through her shirt and bra. She kept her eyes on him as her mouth slowly opened and her breathing grew deeper. Then his hands moved to grasp the hem of her shirt. She lifted her arms, and he pulled it up over her head. The long neck stretched and molded to her face and then begrudgingly released her head. Hamilton smiled teasingly at her as he tossed it to the floor.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Your hair's standing up."  
  
"Oh, yeah, it's the gel," she said, feeling her head. "I should go wash my hair."  
  
"No way."  
  
"No?"  
  
"No. That would involve me letting go of you for ten minutes, and I don't think I could handle that right now." He paused, reading her thoughts, then added, "And I don't think it's safe for us to sneak off to the bathroom together."  
  
"Oh, *now* you worry about that."  
  
Hamilton smiled just slightly, the intensity of his gaze not wavering. "I'll admit, sometimes when I'm thinking about you, I don't think." He reached out to her again and laid his hands on her bare shoulders, running his thumbs under the straps of her tan-colored bra. His eyes asked her if he could take it off. She nodded. He leaned forward, reached behind her. Unhooking it on the first try, he pulled the straps down and threw the bra aside, his gaze lingering for a moment, just taking her in.  
  
He didn't have to cover much distance as he leaned to kiss her, his fingers creeping up again to run over her breasts. She slid her hands up his chest but pulled her mouth away from his.  
  
"Hamilton, we seem to have a clothing inequality problem here."  
  
She looked down to indicate his sweater. Here she was, half-naked, and he was still fully dressed. Hamilton just smiled and lifted his arms. She pulled the sweater over his head so that only a T-shirt stood between her and the chest that she'd been dying to see uncovered since he'd picked up a rolling pin that afternoon. She ran her hands underneath his shirt as Hamilton wrapped his arms around her and dipped his mouth into her neck. His lips quickly found the sensitive spot he had teased her about while lying in the snow the day before. Jake felt a jet of heat melt through her.  
  
"Ooh," she gasped, not intending to make a sound but unable to avoid it.  
  
That one syllable that escaped her lips was all it took to send Hamilton over the hurdle to full arousal. He sighed deeply into her neck and resisted when he felt her pulling away, until he realized that she just wanted to pull off his T-shirt. He beat her to it, and his shirt was on the floor in a heartbeat.   
  
As much as Jake wanted to lean into him again and feel his bare chest against hers, she had to sit back for a moment just to stare at his crew-developed shoulders.  
  
She didn't know why his shoulders did that to her.  
  
But Hamilton couldn't take her being that far away. He reached around her and dug his fingers into her shoulder blades as he pulled her toward him. She crawled forward on her knees so that she was in his lap, straddling him, wool slacks against khakis. They kissed again, deeper, the passion building, hands groping everywhere. Jake finally pulled away for a calming breath, and they both opened their eyes to gaze at each other. Hamilton cradled her face, kissing her nose and then the space between her eyebrows.  
  
"Hey, I've got an idea," he whispered.  
  
"What?"  
  
"What did you have on last night when you were coming downstairs?"  
  
Jake smiled and climbed off of Hamilton's lap. Opening her other suitcase, she pulled out a very short silk robe, peachy-beige with lace trim. "Just this."  
  
"Wow. Just that, huh?"  
  
She slipped into it and then unbuttoned her slacks and stepped out of them. The robe was short enough to reveal her boxers but long enough that when she pulled the boxers down and stepped out of those, Hamilton couldn't tell if she had panties on underneath.  
  
"Grrrr..."  
  
They both froze as soon as he made the noise, then Hamilton just laughed and crooked a finger toward her. "Come here."  
  
She crawled back onto the bed, but instead of cozying up to Hamilton, she stretched out next to him and propped her head up on one arm. "So, what do you think?" she asked.  
  
Hamilton let his eyes travel the entire length of her, from her eyes to her lips, then down her lean body that was normally hidden under baggy clothes but was now so beautifully displayed in the negligee. His gaze passed over her slender hips, her legs, all the way to her toes... and then back to her legs. They were shaved, he noticed. Soft and smooth. Another Christmas present for him...  
  
It reminded him that he still had another Christmas present for her. "I think," he said slowly as he got up, "I've got another gift for you." He picked up a tiny box and handed it to her.   
  
"But it's your turn to open one," she protested.  
  
"Yeah, but this one goes together with the last one. That was for Jake, and this is for Jacqueline."  
  
Jake sat up and took the present. She tore off the wrapping to find a little velvet-covered box from a jewelry store. "Hamilton..." she started, almost afraid to open it. She looked up at him, and he cocked his head to the side and shrugged a shoulder like it was no big deal. She slowly cracked open the lid, and two diamond earrings sparkled out at her. "Hamilton!" she cried, almost scolding him.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Tell me these aren't real. No, never mind, I've seen enough diamonds in my mother's jewelry box to know that they're real."  
  
"What's the problem?"  
  
"You're spending way too much money on me."  
  
"Jake, I'm not exactly in the poorhouse here. I've saved up a lot of money, and I've never had anyone to spend it on. Except my mom, and she doesn't like diamonds." He smiled and sat down next to her, then leaned in and playfully rubbed his nose against hers. "Besides, diamonds say 'I love you.'"  
  
"I thought diamonds said 'forever.'"  
  
"Maybe they say, 'I love you forever.'" With that, he kissed her softly on the lips.  
  
But Jake shook her head. "Hamilton, jewelry doesn't tell someone you love them."  
  
"So what does?"  
  
His face was still right in front of hers, and as she opened her lips to form a response she found herself lost in his eyes. She had been in that same circumstance before, when all ability to think or speak eluded her and she was overwhelmed by the desire to kiss him. She laid a hand on his cheek and did exactly that.   
  
His hands held her head as he returned the kiss. Soon she was in his lap again, straddling him again. She kissed him all over -- lips, chin, nose, cheek... Each kiss was an apology for reacting the way she did, when she knew he was just trying to make her happy. Each kiss was a thank-you that she had failed to utter.  
  
Hamilton slid his fingers down her neck and pulled open the front of her negligee. He pushed it back off her shoulders. She lowered her arms and let the silk slide down her back to her waist. Her bare chest was against his again now, but she pulled away just enough to run her fingers down to his waist, where she started to undo his belt. A high-pitched noise escaped his throat, and she knew she was at last getting to the one place he most wanted her to touch. She unbuckled the belt and unbuttoned his pants, still kissing him all the while.  
  
Not one to waste time, Hamilton slid Jake off of his lap and jumped to his feet. He dropped his khakis and stepped out of them, standing before her in nothing but his boxers. Jake smiled -- he was always so ready to take off his clothes. He'd spent half the summer with no shirt on, and even though his deep tan had finally faded away, his chest was just as chiseled and beautiful as it was in those afternoons she remembered at the lake, his legs still boyishly lean beneath wisps of dark hair.   
  
Now she was the one who was overdressed, so she removed her negligee to reveal matching panties of the same peachy-beige silk. Hamilton's lips parted and almost trembled as he beheld her mostly-naked body, and that reaction immediately made her feel more at ease. He smiled and crawled back on the bed, lying down and gently pulling her down next to him.   
  
They continued kissing deep, wet kisses. He tilted her head back and ran his tongue down to the place that sent shivers through her. Then his lips moved further down her chest to her breasts. She closed her eyes tight and exhaled, grabbing at his hair.  
  
They'd been this far before, farther. But Jake felt a strange excitement that she'd never known before, because this time was different. She didn't know if it was the temperature in the room or just her, but she felt incredibly warm. Hamilton's breath was hot against her chest as he went from licking her nipples to gently sucking her breasts. His body came down against hers as his lips moved back up her chest to her neck and his fingers slid down over her panties and between her legs.  
  
She felt the slightest tickle in her stomach. 'Don't get nervous,' she told herself. 'There's no reason to get nervous.'  
  
And then suddenly there was a reason, because his fingers had slipped inside her panties, and her attention was diverted from the licks of his tongue on her neck.  
  
"Hamilton--" she whispered, though she didn't really want to interrupt him.  
  
"Sorry," he replied, pulling his fingers out and looking up at her like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  
  
"No, it's OK. I just..."  
  
"What? Too fast?"  
  
"No, but... We didn't finish unwrapping the presents."  
  
Hamilton had to laugh. "Are you serious?"  
  
"You're two up on me right now, racked up some major points. I get a chance to fight back, don't I?"  
  
"You know, maybe we could just drop the whole contest thing."  
  
"Chicken?"  
  
"No, I -- Why? You got something better than diamonds?"  
  
"You tell me."  
  
She pushed Hamilton off of her and got up off the bed. He turned on his side and propped his head up on his elbow, watching her with mounting curiosity. She went back to her suitcase, shuffled a few things around, and pulled out a tiny box, a jewelry box just like the one he had given her.  
  
"I was going to save this for last," she said, handing it to him. "But go ahead."  
  
He smiled and lay down on his back. "I guess we were on the same wavelength."  
  
"More or less," she replied. She sat down next to him and leaned back against the pillows.  
  
"So, is this a ring, or do you want me to get my ear pierced?"  
  
"Yeah, Hamilton. I want you to get your ear pierced. Because people need another reason to think that you're gay."  
  
He smirked and shot back, "You're the one who wears the black leather jacket and the aviator shades. That's so George Michael."  
  
Jake accepted that and directed his attention back to the gift. "Just think, what's the one thing you really want for Christmas?"  
  
With a lusty smile, Hamilton looked up at her and replied, "You know what the one thing is I want for Christmas, and she doesn't fit in a little box." He turned over, his head level with her chest, and softly placed his wet lips on her breast, then gently nibbled her nipple. He looked up at her again and whispered, "I want you, Jake. That's all I want."  
  
"I want you, too, Hamilton," she said softly, gazing back at him. "Open your present." With heightened curiosity, Hamilton sat up and cracked the lid of the ring box. His jaw slowly dropped, and he pulled out of the little box a gold-foil-wrapped condom. He held it in his fingers for a moment, then looked at Jake.  
  
"Merry Christmas," she said with a smile.  
  
Hamilton gazed at her with intense love and even more intense lust in his eyes, then looked back at the condom and asked, "Just one?"  
  
Jake laughed. "For starters. The rest of the box is in my suitcase."  
  
Hamilton fell on top of her and kissed her. Really kissed her. Deeply, passionately, thanking her with every ounce of his being and telling her that there was no one else he wanted more to share this experience with. When he came up for air he looked at her intently again.  
  
"Jake, you don't have to do this." The words popped out of his mouth without any forethought, but he realized that he meant it. As desperate as he was to have sex with her, he could only enjoy it if he knew that she wanted it as much as he did.  
  
"Hamilton, I've never in my life done anything because I had to. I told you that I've been wanting this just as much as you have." She took the condom from him. "And if you don't believe me, when do you think I got these? You've spent the last four days with me. I didn't duck out to go to the drugstore."  
  
He realized. "You had them all along. In that suitcase."  
  
She nodded, but the look on Hamilton's face made her nervous. He didn't look so happy anymore.  
  
His eyes narrowed as he said, "You've been willing all this time, but you waited to tell me tonight so you could win a contest?"  
  
"Well, Hamilton, I --"  
  
He cut her off. "I would be so mad at you right now if it weren't for the fact that you're going to have sex with me." He flashed her a grin and then kissed her again. "Come on, get up." He sprang to his feet and pulled her up so he could throw back the covers.  
  
Since she was up, Jake bent down and opened her suitcase again. "Do you want a different kind?" she asked. "I just picked the gold one 'cause it was Christmas-y."  
  
Hamilton turned around to see what she was talking about, and now that the suitcase was fully opened, he could see four boxes of condoms. "You bought four boxes?"  
  
"Well, there were so many different kinds, I just --"  
  
"No, it's cool. Most girls would feel really weird buying all those."  
  
"I didn't do it as a girl. I did it as Jake. And he felt like a total stud."  
  
Hamilton laughed and plucked a box out of the suitcase and set it on the nightstand. Then he walked to the door and shut off the light. Jake went to sit down on the bed, but he stopped her. "Nah-ah," he whispered. He sneaked his fingers inside the waistband of her panties and pulled them down. Jake stepped out of them, then climbed quickly into the bed and pulled up the sheet. She watched Hamilton as he yanked down his boxers and threw them aside as if it were the most casual of afterthoughts. He climbed into the bed after her. He kissed her as he rolled forward and snuggled his naked body up to her.   
  
And that's when she realized they were really going to do this. There he was on top of her, his whole body exposed. Her whole body exposed. Their two bodies rubbing against each other with no barriers and no restraints. Jake was still trying to adjust to this as Hamilton sat up on his knees and ripped the wrapper off the condom. She looked away as he put it on.   
  
"Are you cold?" he asked.  
  
"No."  
  
"You're shaking."  
  
"OK, maybe I'm cold."  
  
He pulled a blanket up over them, and then he sank back down on top of her to keep her warm. He loved the feel of her naked body beneath him. Running his hands over her, he loved that he could let go. Finally, he wouldn't have to control himself but could give in to the warmth that ran like little rivers through his groin, the invisible hand on his lower back that seemed to constantly push him forward, the build-up of five months of desire, ramping up in three days of absolute torture where he thought he would explode, having her so close to him all the time but unable to...be with her.  
  
The next several moments passed like a blur, because everything was suddenly new. She was still Jacqueline, and he was still Hamilton, but now they were two people having sex. Or, trying to have sex...  
  
For Jake, the blur gave way to a burning pain. She gritted her teeth and grabbed onto him harder.   
  
Hamilton wasn't expecting this. Why had he thought he could just slide right into her? Oh well, he could deal. He wanted to be inside her so badly... He squeezed his eyes shut tight and gritted his teeth, thrusting himself at her again.  
  
Nothing. Nothing but resistance. Was he in the wrong place? He went again.  
  
Again nothing. Was he doing something wrong? He opened his eyes, and what he saw frightened him. The look on her face... Her eyes were squeezed shut, too... not from exertion but from pain.  
  
Frustrated, he decided that the best course of action was to ask her. After all, they were best friends, they could talk about anything, right?   
  
"Am I... you know, where I'm supposed to be?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah, feels like it to me. What's the matter?"  
  
"Nothing. Nothing. You feel great."  
  
"But you're not... inside me, are you?"  
  
"No, but you... feel great on the outside."  
  
"Oh, well, are you going to hang around out there? Cuz it's starting to sting a little bit."  
  
"Hey, if you're hurting, I can --"  
  
"No, I don't want you to stop. I just want you... inside me."  
  
Hamilton gave her a small smile, but he knew something was wrong. He bent to kiss her, and she responded, but not with her usual fervor. He felt like he was losing her. That look in her eyes, like she had gone somewhere. She wasn't with him.  
  
He tried again, and again he got nowhere. He had to keep his eyes closed, because he couldn't stand to see that look on her face. This wasn't the erotic moment he had fantasized about all for those months, and he knew it wasn't for her either. She was still as stone, lying there, and the thought finally crossed his mind that perhaps she wasn't ready after all, either mentally or physically. He had been thinking about how much he wanted her, how it would feel to be inside her. He had never really been thinking about *her* -- whether she was ready, or whether a suitcase full of condoms really meant that she wanted this.  
  
He opened his eyes again; she was watching him.  
  
"Don't stop," she whispered.  
  
"Baby, I'm hurting you."  
  
"I figured it would hurt. I don't care."  
  
"I care."  
  
Hamilton gazed at her, but she looked away. The muscles in her thighs felt like steel, and it flickered through his clouded mind - in a moment of clarity - that maybe the problem wasn't between her legs. 'She's tense,' he thought. 'She's nervous. That's why she's shaking.'   
  
Hamilton struggled to calm himself. He was still in the throes of desire, still consumed by the thought of losing his virginity. But he would force himself to try to get a grown-up thought into all that hormone-induced mess. Because he loved her. Ultimately, this was just sex and that, on its own, wasn't going to prove anything to her. Because diamonds don't say I love you, and neither does sex.  
  
He also knew that Jake wasn't like other girls, and not just because she dressed like a boy. But because the wall that he was failing to break through was around her heart, a million defenses it had built up over time to protect itself from hurt, from abandonment, and perhaps, in spite of itself, from intimacy. Hamilton struggled to sort it out, to think of what he could do to get her to relax and trust him.  
  
"Hamilton, talk to me..." Jake begged. She was growing even more nervous as he hovered silently above her.  
  
Hamilton looked down at her, at those beautiful green eyes that desperately searched his face for some answer to what was wrong.   
  
Looking at her, all rational thought went out of his head. He couldn't stop wanting -- that was beyond his abilty. He kissed her, deeply, bathing her mouth with his tongue. His hands felt down her sides, over her smooth, gently curving hips, and back up to her breasts. He kneaded them with his hands -- soft, feminine flesh, nipples that hardened at his touch. And again he was overwhelmed by the single driving need to be inside her. Just one more push...  
  
"No!" Hamilton cried, startling both of them. He was saying it to himself, hadn't meant for it to come out loud. He looked at her again, and there were tears in her eyes. She was horrified. She covered her face with her hands, unable to look at him anymore.  
  
"Baby, I didn't mean..." he started to say, but he wasn't sure what he meant.  
  
"I'm doing it wrong, aren't I?" she asked, her voice muffled by the hands that covered her face.  
  
"No, you're not doing anything wrong."  
  
"What do you want me to do?"  
  
Hamilton was still on top of her, still looking down at her, and now she cautiously removed her hands and looked up at him. He leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips.  
  
"I want you to take this condom off of me," he said.  
  
Jake looked up at him quizzically. Was he suggesting that the condom was the problem?  
  
"No, I don't mean..." He shook his head, reading her thoughts again. "I just mean we should take a break."  
  
Now the tears spilled out of Jake's eyes. "Oh, God," she groaned. "You don't even want to now."  
  
"No, I do want to. But maybe we're rushing things, and this feels so good right now, just like this, feeling you naked underneath me. I want to get used to this feeling."  
  
Jake didn't say anything but avoided his gaze and then closed her eyes. Hamilton sighed and kissed her forehead. He rolled off of her, trying to calm himself. She turned away from him, and he slid his arm over her side and around her protectively. "Jake..." he whispered. "I just want to take a break. I'm not going anywhere."  
  
She turned back around to look at him, her anxiety easing. "OK. So what do we do now?"  
  
Hamilton looked at her eyes that reflected the ethereal glow of the moon through the window, and then he looked out through the frost-painted panes. He saw something in the distance.  
  
"Come on," he urged her. He got up and pulled the blanket off the bed.  
  
"Where are we going?"  
  
"Let's sit by the window."  
  
"Won't it be cold?"  
  
"I'll keep you warm." Hamilton wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and sat down sideways on the window seat, putting his feet up on the seat as well. He beckoned to Jake.  
  
She hesitated, then got up, keeping the sheet wrapped around her. She sat down opposite him on the seat and leaned back against the other wall.  
  
"You see that big star up there?" he asked, pointing.  
  
She looked out at the night sky. "You mean Polaris?"  
  
"That's the Christmas star."  
  
"Actually, it's Polaris."  
  
"Yeah, well, my mom always told me it was the Christmas star, the one the three wise men followed."  
  
"Could be. Polaris is a fixed star, so it's used in navigation."  
  
Hamilton smiled. This was the geek in the girl that he loved. "So, Jake, what would you and your mom do for Christmas?"  
  
Her face contorted again. "Oh God, Hamilton, can we not talk about that?"  
  
He nodded, then sat silently for a moment until his eyes wandered over to his bedside clock that glowed red in the darkness. "It's midnight."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"It's Christmas."  
  
Jake sighed. Some Christmas. She felt very strange, still embarrassed, still confused. They'd sort of had sex, but... was she still a virgin? She stared out the window, avoiding Hamilton's eyes that tried to draw her back to the conversation.  
  
Finally she looked at him, and she let him hear the disappointment she felt as she said, "This was supposed to be the best Christmas ever."  
  
"Jake, even if we don't have sex tonight, this is still the best Christmas I've ever had. By far. And I know you know that." He lost her again as she looked out the window, so he sat up and reached out to her. "Baby, come here."  
  
She needed that hug more than anything. She leaned forward between Hamilton's bent knees and let him wrap his arms around her. He held her for a moment and then motioned for her to turn around. He pulled her into his blanket and she leaned back against his chest and sighed.  
  
"I should've given you the DVD player," she quipped.  
  
Hamilton laughed and squeezed her. "I think your present was great."  
  
"I thought I had the trump card. The ace of spades."  
  
"It wasn't just a game. And if it were, that wouldn't have been the winning move."  
  
"Really? Why's that?" She turned around to look at him.  
  
"Jake, the thing I really want most for Christmas wasn't in that little box."  
  
"Then what is it?"  
  
"What I want is to see you happy."  
  
She smiled. "But I am happy. I'm with you."  
  
"No, your being here was a consolation prize, remember? Where did you want to be for Christmas?"  
  
Jake looked down, her smile disappearing. She turned away and leaned back against his chest. "You know, Hamilton, if you want me to be happy, you gotta stop bringing up my mother."  
  
Hamilton dropped his mouth against her bare shoulder and sat silently for a moment. Then he kissed her. "Get up."  
  
She turned to look at him again, and he nodded. She stood up so that he could get out from underneath her.  
  
"I wasn't supposed to show you these yet," he said as he went to the closet and returned with the FedEx envelope that had arrived that morning.  
  
"What?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.  
  
Hamilton sat down next to her as he reached into the envelope. Jake looked down as he placed the contents in her hand. Two plane tickets.  
  
"What's this?" she gasped, guessing but not believing.  
  
"Tickets to Paris."  
  
"Is this a joke?"  
  
"You want to see your mom, don't you?"  
  
"Yeah, but - two tickets?  
  
"You. Me."  
  
"B-- Wha-- You can't just run off to Paris."  
  
"I can for four days. I told you that my parents are going to Houston for that educators' conference. They know I don't want to go, so I convinced them to let me stay here. Only, I won't be staying here. I'll be going to Paris, with you."  
  
Jake wrinkled her brow and looked at the tickets, still not ready to believe this until she saw the names Jacqueline Pratt and Hamilton Fleming. She shook her head. "No, Hamilton, that's too much. I can't let you-- How could you possibly afford these?"   
  
"I didn't buy them, actually. Your mom did."  
  
"What?"  
  
"This is your Christmas present from your mother, or one of them anyway. She invited me to --"  
  
"When? When did you talk to her?"  
  
"I called her, day before yesterday."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I was afraid you wouldn't."  
  
"How did you get ahold of her in Paris?"  
  
"Her cell number is programmed into your phone." He raised his eyebrows at her smugly, letting her know that she wasn't the only one in the relationship who had brains. "So anyway, she said she missed you and felt bad about missing Christmas with you, but she didn't want you to have to hang out alone in Paris while she was working, so she asked me to go with you and keep you company. But I told her I'd have to check with my parents. Then her assistant called and left a message on the machine saying that she went ahead and sent me something, but I didn't get the message until after I opened up that FedEx and found the tickets."  
  
Jake grew nervous. "Her assistant didn't mention me, did she?"  
  
"No, I was worried about that, too. But your mom was totally discreet. I think she figured I might not have asked my parents yet."  
  
Jake shook her head, still letting this sink in.  
  
"Hey, it's only fair," Hamilton continued. "You got to see what Christmas is like in the Fleming household. Now I get to see what Christmas is like in the Pratt household."  
  
"You mean, the Pratt hotel room du jour?"  
  
"Yeah." He smiled at her, his eyes twinkling in the starlight.  
  
She looked at him earnestly. "This is for real?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You're going with me?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"My mother, you and me, together, in Paris?"  
  
Hamilton suddenly grew nervous. "Ohhh... You're not going to do one of those things where you get mad at me because I'm moving too fast and didn't consult you before--"  
  
But he couldn't finish the sentence because his lips were ripped apart by the voracity of her kiss. She knocked him back against the frosted window as she wrapped herself around him.  
  
"Ow -- cold," he murmured between kisses as the back of his neck came in contact with the frozen glass. Jake got up and led him back to the bed, and they snuggled together under the covers.  
  
She laughed. "You know what this means, don't you?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"My mom won our contest."  
  
"That's good, because if either of us had won, we'd be impossible to live with."  
  
Jake laughed again, her full, resonant laugh.  
  
"Shh," Hamilton hushed her, holding a finger to his lips. "Don't wake up my mom and dad." He tickled her nose with his own and kissed her.  
  
She kissed him back and pulled him to her tightly. She rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes, feeling like she was in a dream. Even if it was just four days... For those four days, she could be a girl. And be with Hamilton. And be with her mother. The two people she loved. The two people she needed. This really was the best Christmas present she could imagine.  
  
She looked up at her boyfriend again. "Hamilton, what did I do to deserve you?"  
  
"Let's see. You dressed up like a guy, messed with my head, made me think I was gay... You know, all the typical girl stuff."  
  
She laughed again, and Hamilton, giggling himself, covered her mouth until she quieted down. She rested her head back on his chest. He was right, it was nice to get used to the feeling of lying next to him naked. Somehow lying there together wrapped in the sheets, joking around with each other, was more intimate than sex. She could hear his heartbeat, and the slow rise and fall of his chest would have rocked her to sleep had she not been so excited. After a moment she lifted her head to look up at him. His eyes were closed, his jaw slack, his lips slightly parted. He looked like he was dozing off.  
  
She knew that she should let him sleep. It had been a difficult day for both of them, and they needed to rest. But she wasn't ready for the day to be over. She wasn't ready to stop kissing those lips. She wasn't ready to stop running her hands over his remarkably defined shoulders and chest. She wasn't ready to lose that loving blue gaze. She wasn't ready to give up on the desire to feel his body fused with hers.  
  
Suddenly, Jake realized that she had never felt more ready.  
  
Maybe that was why she was rubbing herself against his hip. It was that motion that brought his eyelids fluttering open again. He turned on his side and looked at her. She licked her lips then kissed him, softly at first, then pulling his bottom lip between her own, then opening up further and licking his teeth with her tongue. He responded, pulling her to him as their mouths became one.  
  
Without a word spoken, Hamilton could tell that something had changed. He didn't know exactly what it was. Maybe he would never know. But when his body so naturally settled over hers again it was like falling into place. And when he looked down and met her warm gaze, there was no hesitation there. Only love. And the simple response that those beautiful eyes gave to him.  
  
Yes.   
  
It was enough to bring him back to full arousal.   
  
As if he needed any more prompting, she reached down between his legs as her other hand grabbed another condom from the box on the nightstand. They put it on together. And then she put him exactly where she wanted him to go, giving him a squeeze to let him know that she was comfortable with this part of his body now. He sank down on top of her, his chest to hers, and grabbed her hands, pushed them up over her head and down into the pillows. Their fingers intertwined. He fought the urge to close his eyes and managed to keep them open, so he wouldn't lose that affirming gaze. He squeezed her hands, locked her eyes, took a deep breath...  
  
"I love you," he whispered.  
  
"I know."  
  
And then he broke through.  
  
  
THE END  
  



End file.
